


Under the Influence

by cocainencaviar



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 110,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3595746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cocainencaviar/pseuds/cocainencaviar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After experience major trauma in the army, Kakashi turns to alcohol to suppress the memories of the griefs he experienced on his last tour. Forced to attend AA meetings, there doesn't seem to be much hope for Kakashi until a companion from his past takes it upon himself to be Kakashi's saviour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After much consideration I've decided to post this not-so little fic of mine onto AO3. I had originally posted it onto Fanfiction.net and I'm currently 28 chapters in. Life got in the way a little though and I got major writing block trying to wrap up the ending so, in the process of editing and uploading each chapter onto this forum, I'm hoping to get my mojo back and finally finish this project I hold dear. The first ten chapters are pretty much all edited so they'll probably all be uploaded in the next two days and after that I'll upload two or three chapters a week!
> 
> So, to readers old and new, I hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Feedback always welcome!

Kakashi sauntered down the brightly coloured corridor, appreciating the fact he only had one eye as the onslaught of oranges, yellows, purples and the rest of the rainbow flooded his one good eye, deepening his hangover. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to change the location of his Alcoholics Anonymous group to a primary school. The old library had been perfectly fine. Trying to remember what had prompted the change, Kakashi realised he had been severely intoxicated last week, remembering nothing of the meeting or the explanation for the move. His only consolation was that at 8pm there were no children in sight.

Finally reaching his destination, he turned the knob quickly forming an excuse in case he was asked why he was twenty minutes late. Although the yellow walls, plastered in posters and projects, looked cheerful enough, the room's aura was dark and heavy. Recognising most of the group, Kakashi sent an apologetic nod to the counselor leading the session. Giving an annoyed glance at the man, the woman continued as Kakashi slid into a seat on the back row. After fifteen minutes he exasperatedly ran a hand through his spiky silver hair, realising he had zoned out and had missed most of what had been said. These meetings were so boring and, from the whiff of sake on his breath, it was obvious they weren't working. But if his friends wanted him to continue to waste his time here, he would go just to get them off his back. 

Kakashi let his eyes wander around the classroom, deciding it was better to take in his new surroundings rather than staring mindlessly at nothing. His eye stopped at an A4 sized photo in a wooden frame to the left of the counselor's head. Though he only had one eye, it did have 20/20 vision, so it wasn't hard to make out a group of around sixteen young children standing in front of a tanned man, in his twenties. Kakashi blinked and then blinked again. Leaning forward in his chair to get a better look, he analysed the teacher in the photograph. The man was a brunette whose shoulder length chocolate locks were tied in a simple ponytail that made the protruding strands stand on end. His pink lips were curved in a small polite smile but his brown eyes sparkled with a true happiness that Kakashi did not believe he could pull off even with two eyes. What made the silver-haired man's breath catch however, was the deep but aged scar that rested across the man's nose… 

_'Iruka_.'

"Kakashi," the silver-haired man snapped out of his daze, tearing his eyes away from the photograph to look at the counselor who was standing in front of him with a concerned look. Scanning the room he realised that the meeting had come to an end while he had been in a nostalgic trance induced by the photograph of the familiar man. "Hey kid, you alright? You seemed pretty out of it today. Well, more out of it than usual. Anything you want to talk about?"

Kakashi looked back to the buxom older woman who was now taking the seat beside him. "No, I'm fine" he said as he made his move to leave. Feeling delicate fingers around his wrist, Kakashi looked back to see a dangerous frown on the woman's face and he slowly slid back into his seat.

"Look Kakashi, this is your sixth week coming to these sessions. You arrive late. You don't participate. You don't listen. Hell, you even come here smelling like alcohol." The woman placed her hand on the man's shoulder and gave a firm squeeze making sure he was listening. "You may not think you have a problem Kakashi, but you're not well. I saw it as soon as your friend Gai dragged you here that first day. I know..." The councillor's eyes wavered for the first time in the conversation, anxious about bringing up the sensitive subject. "I know what happened...while you were in the army..." 

Kakashi paled and felt his heart stop. He had been forcing himself to repress the memories of his last mission as the youngest Lieutenant General of the Shinobi Rank of the Konoha Army; the mission where his command had led to the death of his two closest friends, Rin and Obito. 

"Kakashi listen, I understand what you're going through, believe me I do, but drowning your sorrows down the bottle is only going to make things worse. The friends you lost would be hurt to know their deaths have turned you into this". 

"Shut up!" The silver haired man violently ragged his shoulder away from the counselor, bolting up. "You don't understand at all. You know nothing about what happened and you know nothing about Rin and Obito!" Kakashi panted, trying to catch his breath, feeling as though the air had been knocked out him the second he let his friend's names roll off his tongue for the first time since he last saw them alive. 

"I'm sorry...I crossed the line. But that doesn’t change the fact you do have a problem," whispered the woman, standing up to place her hand back on the shoulder of the tall, lean man whose chin was now resting on his heaving chest, eye on the ground. "Look, come along next week. I won't make you participate or anything but if you come next week and you decide that you don't have a problem and don't need any help, I'll tell Gai that you no longer need to attend these meetings and you'll be free." 

Kakashi gave a curt nod, turned and strode to his car in half the time it had taken him to arrive at the class door. Letting out a deep breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, he slumped into the driver's seat of his black Land Rover Evoque, his head falling back on the head rest. The man continued to heave in slow laboured breaths, but his constricted lungs didn't seem to be able to take in enough oxygen for his mind to stop spinning. Remembering he had a case of sake at home that he hadn't opened yet, Kakashi sped off home.

An hour later, Kakashi was passed out on the sofa, several bottles of sake surrounding him, all thoughts of that night; the memories of Rin and Obito and the beautiful face from his past, now safely buried under the heavy fog of his alcoholism.

 


	2. Chapter 2

"You have to Iruka!" The blonde woman insisted, slamming both palms on the teacher's desk she stood in front of, making the brunette sat behind it cower at the hint of aggression in the woman's voice. "I don't know what it is and you might not even know the guy, but there was something in the way he was looking at that photo of you. I might be wrong and it might not even be because of you specifically, but for first time in six weeks there was something in his eye that wasn't the heartbreaking apathy I usually see." Releasing fists she hadn't realised she'd formed, Tsunade smoothed the edges of her voice and continued. "Just come to the next meeting and we'll see how it goes, okay".

The young brunette exhaled loudly as the palm of his hand ran down his face, regretting letting his aunt use his classroom for these meetings while the old library was being renovated. "I'm sorry Aunt Tsunade. I would help but I'm not exactly comfortable with the idea of you dangling me like bait to some dangerous alcoholic".

Grinding her teeth, Tsunade glared at Iruka, her eyes sharp and her voice now dangerously low. "He is not some dangerous alcoholic. He's a good kid who became just another victim of the misery that manifests when you lose someone in that army." At the mention of the word 'army' Iruka straightened up, guilt drowning his senses as he realised why his aunt was so passionate about helping this man. Remembering the dark days in which his aunt had been sinking under the spell of alcohol and gambling after her husband Dan had died on duty, Iruka decided he would help out in any way he could.

**...**

Kakashi walked up to the school, excited to get this meeting over and done with so he would never have to come back again. He had been stumbling slightly and decided the twenty-minute walk would help him sober up before the meeting and he didn't need another strike on his licence even if he knew, from experience, he could drive perfectly well while tipsy. Hands tucked into the pockets of his black sweats, Kakashi cursed to himself as he shuffled through the corridor realising he was only ten minutes late. He thought about hanging back for a while, but remembered that ten extra minutes breathing the suffocating air of depression around him wouldn't be so bad knowing it was his last meeting.

Turning the knob on the door and ready to give the usual apologetic nod, Kakashi stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a chocolate haired man stood to the left of his counselor. All the nostalgia he'd forgotten from the previous week slammed back into him making him stumble into the door frame beside him, catching the room's attention. However, the silver-haired man saw no one but...

"'Ruka". His voice was hoarse and jagged as it left his mouth, having barely used it since the last time he was in this room.

"Ka-Kakashi? What the fuck?" the brunette whispered, his eyes wide and his head shaking.

Seeing tears well up behind the eyes of the younger man, Kakashi looked down at himself, wondering what had him so startled. The man began to tremble as he processed what he saw, really looking for the first time, at what he had become. The black sweatpants he'd carelessly thrown on that evening were greying with age, deep unidentified stains gracing the garment. His once white t-shirt now took on the hue of a dirty eggshell and creases ran deep across his chest and arms. For the first time he could feel the prickle of a silver stubble he hadn't allowed on to the surface of his skin since it had started to grow when he was seventeen.

Horrified at having allowed the beautiful young man from his past to see him in such a disgraceful state, he bolted out of the door not stopping until he was halfway down the corridor. The dizziness from the alcohol still in his system forcing him to stop and rest his head back against a locker, eye closed, chest heaving.

Iruka was rooted to his spot, agape and staring at the spot where the man from his past had stood. _'No. That’s not Kakashi. It can’t be! That was not the Kakashi I know. That was not the Kakashi I admired and respected for six years. No way.'_

Iruka let his mind wander into the past as he continued to stare into the empty spot in front of the door, feet still rooted next to his aunt.

**...**

Iruka had been eight when his parents had passed away in the car accident that gave him his signature scar, which stretched across the bridge of his nose just past his nostrils. The glass of the window on the back seat passenger door had shattered from the impact of the car that had crossed the red traffic light, but it was his parents that had suffered the most fatal injuries at the hands of a drunk driver too reckless to realise he was just about to ruin a young family.

After months of acting out in school, Tsunade, his aunt and now his guardian, decided to enrol her nephew into a karate class, hoping it would be the perfect outlet for him to release the anger he felt at having his parents stolen by an irresponsible drunkard.

He met Kakashi on his very first day. Already the twelve-year-old stood out; his hair spiky and catching the light in its silver locks. The boy was sat cross-legged next to the sensei in his crisp white karate uniform, black belt tied tight across his waist, facing the other students, many of whom were older than him. It was obvious the kid was special. Iruka skulked at the back of the class, intimidated to see that he was the only one in the class of thirty with a white belt. 'Great, I look like such an idiot, especially compared to that kid with grey hair.' Iruka switched off, deciding he was going to tell Tsunade that this wasn't for him. It wasn't until everyone in the group started to get up and walk in different directions in the training hall that he realised he's missed out on some important instruction. Looking around in a panic, he couldn't tell which group he belonged to, seeing kids of his age in all the groups but no one else with a white belt.

"You weren't listening were you," Iruka spun round to see an annoyed look in the deep black of orbs of the silver-haired kid, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I...um...I...I'm sorry" Iruka stuttered, eyes blinking, taking an unsteady step back, feeling utterly inferior to the taller boy.

Kakashi let out a small sigh, uncrossed his arms and lightened his brow, realising he must be an intimidating sight to the newcomer. "My name's Kakashi. It's mid-season so you're the only beginner. I'm in training to be an instructor so Sarutobi-sensei wants me to teach you the basics. If I can get you on the yellow belt in three months he's going to let me teach the yellow and orange belts as well"

Stepping forward into his previous spot, the smaller boy's eyes grew wide as he blew the air out of his mouth behind his lips making them vibrate with a short warble. "Three months? How the heck will we manage that? We only have an hour a week!" Iruka let his hands, which had been raised to express the impossibility of the situation, drop to his hips as he shook his head, forgetting his initial fear of the boy.

Chuckling at the quick change in the boy's demeanour, Kakashi offered the boy a reassuring smile. "I moved up to my yellow belt after a month. As long as you practice and do as I say we'll get you that belt before the three months is up. I promise." The black belt laid his hand on his first student's shoulder, his warm smile reaching his eyes, immediately calming the worried boy until he returned the smile.

"Thanks Kakashi...umm sensei. My names Iruka by the way," the brunette stated giving the taller boy a winning grin before the two got to work.

True to his word Kakashi had taught Iruka well enough for him to become a yellow belt three weeks before the three month deadline. The eight year old practised every day after school, determined to do his sensei, and his friend, proud. Even after Iruka became one of many students Kakashi taught, it was obvious the young sensei favoured the brunette, pushing him harder and praising him louder than the others. The extra hour of private mentoring intended to help them reach the three-month deadline never ended, even when he began to climb in levels.

Iruka looked down at the freshly tied electric blue belt around his waist. It had been his goal to achieve this level by Kakashi's eighteenth birthday and he was ecstatic knowing his sensei's pride in his achievement would be a gift in itself. Looking back at the boy he'd spent the best past of six years following, he grinned a grin full of respect and admiration watching as Kakashi bested Sarutobi-sensei in a sparring match.

Kakashi wasn't just Iruka's teacher. When Iruka needed somewhere to vent his frustrations on the anniversaries of his parents' death, Kakashi bore the brunt of his frenzied sparring. When he needed a shoulder to cry on afterwards, Kakashi provided it. When Tsunade's husband had died and Iruka had found himself with an alcoholic guardian, it was Kakashi who he expressed his worries to. It may have only been an hour a week but that time spent together became more than just a karate class; it became a counselling session and a place of enlightenment as Iruka came of age.

Kakashi wasn't just Iruka's teacher. He was a friend, a confidant, a companion. Kakashi was Iruka's rock.

No, Kakashi had been Iruka's rock, what had stood before him in that classroom nine years later, was an empty shell.


	3. Chapter 3

No matter how hard Kakashi tried to force his feet into action, his knees seemed to have another idea, buckling under his weight, forcing him to slide down the locker till his legs lay flat in front of him on the cold linoleum floor. _'Iruka. That was Iruka and he saw me. Like this. And I'm so pathetic I don't even have the strength to get up and leave. What must he think of me now?'_ While waiting for his brain to regain control of his body, Kakashi's memories started to drift back to the last time he's seen the brunette.

**…**

Seeing the electric blue sash around the fourteen-year olds waist had been such a bittersweet moment for Kakashi. He knew how hard Iruka had been working to meet this deadline for him, and knowing he'd achieved his goal filled him with such a warmth that he had to hold back the grin that threatened to escape every time his student came into his line of vision, only managing to bring it down to a lopsided smile. But each time he did, he quickly remembered what this day really meant and his gut lurched, an unsettling feeling rising in his chest at the prospect of having to tell the younger boy that this was goodbye.

As the hour came to an end, the rest of the class dispersed as Iruka bounded up to Kakashi, excited to begin their usual one-on-one session. "Happy Birthday Kakashi!" the younger boy exclaimed, his grin so wide that the edges of his scar tipped upwards, as he pulled the taller boy into a quick hug. It took all of Kakashi's control not to chase after his retreating arms, wanting to savour what he knew he may never get again.

"Thanks," was all Kakashi could muster, as he tried to quash the dread that was mounting in his stomach at knowing he'd have to tell him sooner than later.

Iruka had noticed Kakashi was acting a little more stoic than usual so decided that his after-training surprise would be best served at this moment. "Wait here 'Kashi," with that he bounded off to the lockers, leaving Kakashi, too lost in his thoughts to question him. Returning with a black plastic bag, Iruka sheepishly handed it to his companion, the heat rising slightly on his tanned cheeks as he received questioning glances from his sensei, who was looking between him and the bag with narrowed eyes. "It's not much...I just, you know, saw it and thought of you, and your birthday was coming up so I figured why not, and I know we don't usually do gifts, but, you know, 18 is the big one, right? So...yeah." By the end of this rant Iruka's tanned cheeks were a pleasant shade of carmine and he was fidgeting on the spot, nervously awaiting his friend's verdict on the gift.

Kakashi couldn't help but smile at how anxious his friend sounded as he rambled on, giving excuses as to why he'd bought the gift. He didn't need to see it to know he'd cherish and preserve it as a reminder of the boy once he'd left. Opening the bag he pulled out a palm-sized miniature scarecrow. It wore dark denim overalls with patchwork of the same fabric as the blue and red check shirt underneath. It wore a brown brimmed hat, like most, but it was the straw used to make up the feet, arms and face of the scarecrow, that made it special. Unlike others, the straw used to make it was not golden-yellow, but a very fair cream, almost white, not too dissimilar from his own pale skin. Laying it gently on his right palm, Kakashi lightly ghosted his left index finger over the tiny buttons on the shirt, around the minute stitches of the patchwork on the knees, realising this could be his most precious possession to date.

Confused by the unreadable look on his friend's face, Iruka panicked thinking he'd got it wrong. _'He must think it's weird that I got him something. What kind of student gives their teacher such a personal gift?'_ "Look it's no big deal, I can totally take it back if you don't want it, it was just a spur of the moment purchase, you know, it's fine, here..." He went to take back the mini-scarecrow when Kakashi tightened his grip on his birthday present, capturing a few of Iruka's fingers that had reached to remove it.

"No... " He murmured, making no move to loosen his grip but looking at Iruka with such intensity, as so many emotions swirled in his black orbs; none of which Iruka could decipher. "I love it,"

They remained like this for a few lingering moments but Iruka, completely overwhelmed and bewildered by the sudden seriousness of the situation, eased his fingers out his friend's grip and awkwardly scratched at his scar, looking anywhere but those eyes that were saying so much to him but in a language he didn't understand.

"We should probably get going. Just 'cause it's your birthday doesn't mean you get out of teaching me stuff. I'm not gonna get a black belt standing around, you know." Iruka tried to laugh but the atmosphere was still too heavy, so he just sighed, moving to the supply closet to get the equipment needed. A bit of training or maybe some sparring would dispel whatever this was, he figured.

Before he could get more than four strides away, Kakashi spoke up. "No. Not today...Can we chat?"

Iruka knew. He just knew that whatever he was going to say would be nothing less than devastating. In the entire six years they'd spent together, it was always he who asked Kakashi _'can we chat?'_ anytime he had needed help, or advice, or guidance, or comfort, and each of those times Kakashi would provide what was needed and then some.

On the anniversaries of his mum's death a few days after his birth date, Kakashi never sought Iruka for a chat. On the anniversaries of his father's suicide he didn't seek Iruka's comfort either. Upon hearing from Sarutobi-sensei the reason Kakashi was always a little more distant at those times in the year, Iruka had thought he was just afraid to ask; afraid to look weak. However even when he initiated conversations on those subjects or tried to coax the boy into talking about himself, he was met with the usual passive attitude and it was obvious he could handle whatever came his way. Any trials and tribulations he faced, he faced alone.

If he needed to chat with Iruka, it was almost certainly going to be something involving him. It was the sombre look on Kakashi face; the one the doctor pulls when the results aren't good, or the police man at the door when he has bad news, which had Iruka emitting panicked breaths, a sudden fight or flight instinct washing over him.

Kakashi's gaze pinned him where he was though, making his heart beat so hard that it resonated in his ears, the opposite to when you stand too close to a speaker and you can feel the bass in your chest. He was concentrating too hard on trying to calm his palpitations that he almost missed the hushed words that left his sensei's mouth. "I'm leaving".

Iruka blinked, his brow furrowed, trying to process those two words. In the back of his mind he knew what it meant but the stubborn part of him refused to acknowledge it. "Hey, it's no big deal; Sarutobi-sensei can train me until you get back, and obviously it'll slow down my progress but, you know I'll keep practising, it'll be fine and, I'll kinda miss the chats, but I can survive until you get back. I'm not completely dependent on you, you know." Iruka stopped only because he ran out of breath and his mind was rattling through more reassurances he was going to give Kakashi once he caught his breath. "And when you're back we'll-"

"Stop." Kakashi held on to the shorter boys shoulders but couldn't meet his eyes, so he kept his head down and made a conscious effort to steady his breathing for a sentence he was sure was going to break his friend's heart. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that he was one of the most important people in the fourteen year old's life. He had tried to keep their relationship strictly student-teacher, but over the six years he had found himself looking forward to their Wednesday evening one-on-ones. Iruka had been a temperamental kid when they'd first met; when he was still frustrated with his new-found orphan-hood and his temper was easy to flare. Kakashi could relate. He wanted to help the boy; give him something he could put his mind to, somewhere to vent that frustration so as not to bottle it up and become passive and impermeable to emotion like he was. For years he tried to convince himself that that's all it was. But as he readied himself for what he was about to say, he became aware that this may break him as much as it would Iruka.

"I'm leaving and... I'm not coming back".

**…**

"Iruka!" Tsunade shook her nephew slightly. "Come on, you can't just stand there with a slack jaw, I brought you here to help this guy out, not scare him off. Go after him!" The teacher felt his feet slide closer to the door as he was forcibly pushed out of his dream-like state to find himself in the corridor.

It was silent, with the exception of Iruka's unsteady breaths. His feet itched to move; to go set this whole mess right, to just confirm that it was not his childhood hero he saw looking like such a disgrace. But he knew. He would never have forgotten Kakashi. He clamped his eyes tight and lifted his fingers to massage at his temples, in an effort to budge the image of the new Kakashi out of his memory, but it seemed to have burned itself into his retinas.

_'What do I do? What do I do?!'_ His efforts to calm down were utterly unsuccessful and he scrunched up his sweater in a fist at his chest, loud ragged breaths indicating the start of a panic attack. Iruka scrunched his eyes, clenched and unclenched his fingers repeatedly and counted down to zero from twenty slowly – a trick he had been taught when he was eight...by Kakashi.

It was then a sudden calm rushed over him as he realised what he needed to do.

_'For six years Kakashi was there for me. Always. The one time he genuinely needs help, I'm here panicking as if I'm the one who needs comfort. Not this time. I'm gonna help that stubborn bastard whether he wants my help or not'._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter - Confrontation!


	4. Chapter 4

Kakashi's world stopped spinning as violently as it had been before. Although he couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed that Iruka hadn't run after him, he was mostly relieved that he could now leave this place and never return. As far as he was concerned, his deal with Tsunade still stood; he came to today's meeting and he didn't think he needed anymore help. Iruka's appearance had thrown him off kilter, but drawing on his twenty-seven years of passivity and aloofness, he quashed any unwarranted emotions that had been bubbling since he'd seen him.

Scrambling to his feet, clawing at the locker doors and slowing his sways to a less noticeable wobble, Kakashi trained his grimace into a cool expression and continued down the corridor.

Iruka paced, looking for Kakashi. Just as he reached the end of the corridor and approached the glass doors, he caught a glimpse of that distinguishable silver crop in the car park.

"Kakashi! Kakashi, wait!" Kakashi tried to pick up his pace, but he was already concentrating too hard on trying to walk relatively straight without the added difficulty of increasing speed. Iruka caught up to him with ease.

_'I should have known he would come after me'_. Sighing, Kakashi turned around to face the younger man.

Time seemed to freeze again as they stood, unblinking; deep brown eyes trying to keep the tears at bay, cold black eye trying to focus on one of the two swaying Iruka's.

"So, it really is you," the younger man sniffed.

"Maa, Iruka, have I changed that much," Kakashi shrugged, expertly expressing nonchalance, despite the pounding in his head and the twisting in his gut. He wasn't sure whether the latter was caused by seeing Iruka again, or whether he was about to throw up. Both were plausible.

Even if Kakashi was his usual, alert, black-belt self, he wouldn't have been able to predict or counter Iruka's next move. He didn't see it coming, but he heard the resounding smack and felt the prickling against his cheek. Righting his face from where the slap had moved it to, he looked back to Iruka ready to shout a 'what the fuck', but one look at the younger man silenced him completely.

Iruka's shoulders were completely hunched over and his head hung low, but Kakashi could see the glistening wetness down his face. They stood like that for what seemed like an endless moment, the only disruptions being the periodic hiccups Iruka let slip from the his virtually silent sobs.

"I've been waiting nine years to do that," Iruka whispered after a shaky sigh. "You...you just went. No word, or a letter or a call or anything. Did you even care? Were you affected at all by leaving; leaving Konoha, leaving the class...leaving me?" It was only then that he raised his head and looked at his old sensei dead in the eye.

Hearing the old indifference in his sensei’s voice, the casual nonchalance in the shrug of his shoulders when Iruka had caught up to him, had blurred the current image of Kakashi, and all he could see was the eighteen year old who’d walked away without a word or a look back. In that moment all he’d remembered was the bitterness his younger self had harboured, making him spew words he’d held on to for years, but now, as the fog cleared and he remembered he was facing this new Kakashi, he felt a shroud of guilt overcome him. He didn’t take back his words though, the teenager in him demanding answers his adult self was ashamed to be asking for.

Kakashi's hands were fisted and his brow furrowed deep. His lips were held in a thin taut line but the throb at his temple said that his teeth were grinding. "Of course I cared. Of course I was affected," he croaked through clenched teeth.

"Then why? Why did you just leave like that? You didn't even say goodbye!"

"I...I couldn't".

**_…_ **

He'd figured it was for the best. Long goodbyes would only make the whole situation unnecessarily emotional. Unnecessary emotions were what he'd been trying to avoid for the major part of his eighteen years. Where he was going, unnecessary emotions could get you killed, so that day, like all others, he hid them all behind his mask of indifference.

He'd figured it was the best for Iruka too. He knew only too well how emotions ruled the boy. If he stuck around there would be tears, he wouldn't have been able to leave him in tears, so tears would lead to comforting and that would only prolong and intensify the inevitable.

"I'm leaving and...I'm not coming back."

He waited for the words to sink in, watching as Iruka blinked rapidly, trying to absorb the information. He didn't say any more. Nothing more needed to be said. Once he saw the disbelief and confusion pass from Iruka's eyes, slowly drowned by tears of realisation, he removed his hands from his student's shoulders and moved swiftly to the exit.

It all happened too quickly for the stunned Iruka who was still trying to take everything in. It seemed as though one minute he was giving his sensei a birthday gift, the next he was looking at his back in the doorway, scarecrow in hand.

The situation struck him like a bolt of lightning and he scrunched up his karate gi in a fist at his chest, loud ragged breaths indicating the start of a panic attack.

"K-Kashi...you...you can't!" He panted through those panicked breaths, bile rising in his throat at the prospect of losing the closest person in his life after his aunt. "D-don't leave...don't leave me. Please".

Kakashi's nails were biting hard enough into his fisted palms to draw blood, but there was nowhere to direct his anger towards. This was no one's fault but his own. _'I knew this was my path all along and I still allowed him to get too close...Soldiers don't cry. Soldiers do not cry'_. Kakashi continued this mental mantra until his eyes obeyed and he was sure he could speak without his voice cracking or a sob escaping.

"I'm sorry Iruka". With those three stern words he exited the hall not looking back, leaving behind a devastated student to fall to his knees and mourn.

**…**

"What?" Iruka's tears had long since dried, now he was just getting more and more pissed off at his sensei's sorry excuses, which was easy enough given his even sorrier appearance.

"You couldn't say goodbye? You just dropped everything and left without a moment’s notice. One second everything's fine as usual, then you just disappeared out of my life, like it was nothing...like I was nothing". The last part was murmured but Kakashi heard it.

"It wasn't like that. It's just...that was my path from the beginning". Kakashi exhaled loudly, turning his head away from Iruka and towards the main road that would take him home. _'I need a fucking drink'._

He knew it hadn't been fair the way he had left. But there had never been a right time to explain - to explain his legacy, his commitments, his destiny. How do you tell your student that you're a genius who, practically since birth had been nurtured with a soldiers mentality? His father had been such a respected and renowned Lieutenant, legendary even, and it was clear that Kakashi, from a shockingly young age, was a prodigy. He not only possessed incredible physical prowess, but also had a tactician's intellect, sharp enough to put Captains and Majors to shame.

His father's suicide had shaken his eleven-year-old world to its very core. He couldn't deny his path; his training under his father's guidance had assured that he had no childhood; nothing to fall back on but strategy and combat. He was never an extrovert, but after that tragedy he closed off completely. It was his father's last mission that had dragged him into severe depression. He had chosen to save comrades rather than complete the mission, putting great strain on the Army as a whole. He was ostracised; loathed for what his failure had cost the Army. Kakashi heard over and over again how his father's emotions and feelings had led to his failure - unnecessary emotions that clouded his judgement. It was then that the young prodigy swore off them, determined to follow the guidelines to the letter. All emotions were wiped and he chose instead to wear a permanent mask of apathy and detachment.

Then Iruka came along. The boy was the epitome of feeling; never afraid to express and act upon his sentiments. Kakashi had only been training and teaching at the class to hone his combat and leadership skills until he could officially join the Konoha Army at the age of eighteen. His birthday was eagerly awaited by the higher-ups who knew of his talents and had sponsored his continued growth. His position was waiting for him; his path was set. Iruka was merely a speed bump. Or so he tried to tell himself.

No matter what happened he couldn't let that scarecrow go. As a soldier he had to live with modest possessions, but it was always among them. It irked him that with everything and everyone else he came across, he managed to maintain the expert detachment he'd perfected since he was eleven; everything but that damn scarecrow.

All these memories filtered back into Kakashi's mind's eye as he stood there in front of an expectant Iruka who was still waiting for an explanation. Nine years. It had been nine years and he'd still hung on to that gift. Looking back at the person who had held a place in his heart and his mind since he was twelve, the floodgates that had been keeping his emotions in check, threatened to collapse, and the patchwork job that the alcohol had been doing was steadily peeling away. _'I really need a fucking drink'._

"Look, can we talk about this some other time; I just want to go home." Kakashi's voice was back to a croak and he was edging away from Iruka, ever so slightly.

Iruka had been watching him very carefully. He'd chosen not to say anything; Kakashi had seemed to be going through some internal battle if the slight grimaces and scowls had been any indication. Iruka felt like he was looking at a stranger. He'd never seen Kakashi look so affected; so feeling. Even though they were only whispers of emotions, it was more than he had seen in the six years as his student. He had had nine years to imagine how this reunion would go and this was far from any scenario he'd ever played out.

The taller man turned to head home when fingers wrapped around his wrist, stopping him going any further.

"Where do you live?" The question threw Kakashi off-balance. He'd been expecting more questions about the past and his departure. He turned and managed to elegantly raise an eyebrow at Iruka.

"Why?"

"I'm coming to see you tomorrow. I'd come right now but I need some time to get my head together and I'm pretty sure you do too." Iruka said this so matter-of-factly that both of Kakashi's eyebrows inched to his hairline.

"I'm not sure if that's a good-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer Kakashi! I didn't chase you out here to slap you and bring up something that happened years ago. So you left on bad terms? That doesn't mean you're not important to me. I still care about you... a lot."

The floodgates on those emotions were seriously straining now. If he didn't leave now, Kakashi was sure they would overflow, taking him and Iruka out with them. He remained silent. He didn't want the man in his apartment. Certainly not in the state it was in at the moment. He didn't need anyone poking into his business and reprimanding him for his behaviour. He was fine, but he knew Iruka wouldn't see it that way.

"Please Kakashi. I...I just want to help".

_'And there it is. Why does everyone assume I need their damn help? I won't be anyone's charity case.'_

"Maa, Iruka, you know how messy I've always been. I couldn't possibly let you see the pig-sty I live in. Here take my number, we'll meet up instead".

Kakashi's smile was painfully fake as he gave Iruka his digits, and the younger man knew it. As soon as he'd said the word 'help' he'd seen Kakashi's close off; all the feelings that were threatening to escape behind that eye quickly retreating.

_'I should have known. This is the emotionally-stunted Kakashi I'm dealing with. No matter how much he's changed he still won't accept help from anyone. All the trials and tribulations he's faced, he faced alone. Obviously he thinks he can do the same this time. Idiot. He's getting my help whether he wants it or not.'_

"I'll call you tomorrow Kakashi."

The sensei and the student parted. One went home to mercilessly patch up his emotional floodgates with a bottle of whiskey, the other went home to strategise.


	5. Chapter 5

Iruka didn't sleep that night. When he arrived home from the AA meeting, after tactfully dodging Tsunade, he sat down at the desk in his study, pushed aside his lesson plans for the following week and turned on his laptop. If he was going to seriously help Kakashi he needed a plan. As he always told his kids, failing to prepare is preparing to fail, and Iruka was no hypocrite.

But, how exactly do you prepare to save your ex karate sensei (who also happened to be your hero and most important person for six years, and who you still care about despite him disappearing from your life for nine years without so much as a goodbye) from grief induced alcoholism?

Iruka had no clue, but figured Googling alcoholism would be a good place to start. He wasn't exactly a novice to this situation. He'd been here nearly a decade and a half ago with his aunt Tsunade. Back then, the whole chapter had overwhelmed him so completely that he was so busy breaking down himself, he didn't and couldn't provide any sort of help when his aunt needed him most. In fact, he himself had sought help from Kakashi as if he'd been the one suffering. Granted he'd been twelve, but to this day he felt guilty for not having been able to do more in those gruelling times. He was determined not to let another loved one face the same fate.

Iruka reigned in his thoughts, clicked onto the Wikipedia link for alcoholism and got his research underway. He read for a while until he found a hyperlink that caught his attention. He opened it in a new tab, trying to understand as much of the situation as he could.

_'Alcohol tolerance? Hmm, okay. I can see Kakashi becoming tolerant to alcohol. He could always handle way more of anything than anyone else could; either what was thrown at him in karate or just life in general.'_ "When a subject's reaction to a specific drug and concentration of the drug is progressively reduced, an increase in concentration is required to achieve the desired effect". _Yeah seems plausible.'_

_'Physical and emotional dependence? Not a chance. Kakashi never needed anyone or anything. If there's one thing I remember about him it's his complete and utter independence. He needed no shoulder to cry on for anything ever. His shoulders were strong enough to carry the weight of his own issues and most of mine too. No way he's dependent on drinking. No way.'_

_'Detoxification? Withdrawal syndrome? What? These are actual issues? Yeah I know alcohol is technically a drug, but I didn't think you could actually get withdrawal symptoms. Guess cold turkey isn't the way to go. Fuck. I know less about this than I thought. How exactly should I go about helping if taking all the alcohol away could cause this withdrawal syndrome?'_

_'Group therapy? Psychotherapy?'_ Iruka laughed out loud after skipping to the management and treatments section of the Wiki page and seeing these suggested approaches. _'The day Kakashi attends a group therapy session and talks about his problems to a bunch of strangers or a psychotherapist isn't the day pigs fly. That day will have arrived long before Kakashi opens up and shares his emotions with others. It would be so contrary to everything he is, everything he stands for, to not only show, but broadcast his weaknesses. So...no to therapy sessions. Moving swiftly on.'_

Each paragraph he read had hyperlinks that led to more information, which provided hyperlinks to more information. It was an endless cycle and seventeen tabs later, Iruka realised he was in over his head

As 3AM approached, he sat back and analysed the comments he's accumulated over the hours of internet surfing. What was supposed to be a serious set of notes, aimed towards devising a strategy for helping Kakashi, sounded more like the ramblings of a teenage girl obsessed with how strong and brave her crush is. Fighting down a blush that was threatening to pepper his tanned cheeks, he thought more about Kakashi; as he used to be and as he was now. Nine years. It had been nine years. He had to stop thinking of Kakashi as the beacon of strength who had seen him through his childhood. Who's to say that person even existed anymore. A lot can change in nine years. A lot probably had.

Iruka was completely disheartened. He wasn't entirely sure whether it was because he'd wasted nearly five hours on research he couldn't use or because he realised it was going to take much more time and work to get Kakashi better. It was probably neither. It was probably the thought that Kakashi may have changed beyond return; that the icon he'd been waiting nine years to return to his life may never be coming back.

The teacher pondered this thought as he fisted his hands in his hair, elbows rested before his keyboard. The longer he contemplated the situation, the more confused he became.

_'Imagine how Kakashi must be feeling though_ '. Lifting his guilt-ridden body off the desk chair, Iruka dragged his feet to his bedroom, dropping on his bed and entering a slumber regularly interrupted by tempestuous thoughts.

**…**

Kakashi lifted his eyelid and his head throbbed at the effort. It took him a few minutes to get accustomed to his surroundings. He pushed passed the aching behind his eyes and moved his eyeball slightly to the left, till his toilet seat came into view. _'Oh, right'._

Straightening his aching limbs he stood facing his toilet, one hand massaging at his pounding temple, the other steadying himself against the back wall. He waited till his dizzying lessened, flushed the remains of the bottle of whiskey he'd downed after he came back from the AA meeting and lumbered to his bed.

The man stared at his ceiling. Sleep was the last thing from his mind at that moment. Everything that had happened the evening before trickled back. He'd tortured himself enough on the walk home and through the first quarter of the whiskey bottle but, like they always did, his thoughts sneaked their way back to the forefront, unrelenting in their determination to be processed.

Only sleep and alcohol could clear his head completely. After staring at the ceiling for twenty-five minutes he realised it wasn't going to be the former. Rolling over to retrieve the bourbon bottle underneath his bed, he took four gulps of the nightcap, before rolling back and staring at the ceiling till it phased out into darkness.

The vibration of his mobile phone rattled on his mahogany bedside table, waking Kakashi with a start. It was late afternoon; entirely too early for the man. Leaning over he grabbed the phone and squinted his eyes against the offending brightness of the screen to see who had interrupted his peace. _'I swear if this is Gai.'_ But Kakashi didn't recognise the number.

Furrowing his brow he waited for the call to ring out and then waited a little longer for a voicemail, but none came. Scowling at the device he threw it on the other side of the bed, buried his head under the duvet and tried his hardest to get back to sleep. Forty minutes passed before his phone vibrated again. Only two vibrations this time; a text.

Kakashi left it for five minutes, desperately trying to fade his consciousness once more. Giving up, he threw off the duvet, grabbed his phone and opened the message.

**Kakashi-sensei, it's Iruka. Do I still call you sensei? I guess not. I know you never saved my number so I'm guessing that's why you didn't answer my call. I did say I'd call today though so you should have been expecting it. Anyway, I want to see you today. We have a lot to catch up on. It wasn't exactly a joyous reunion. That was probably my fault. I was glad to see you again, though. Really glad. Call me back, or just text me when and where x**

Re-reading the text for the third time, Kakashi again lingered on the kiss at the end. _'I can't deal with this right now'._ Rolling over to retrieve his trusty under-bed bourbon he took his usual four gulps then another two to induce an even speedier slumber. As he stared at the ceiling waiting for the elixir to work its magic he analysed Iruka's words for the umpteenth time. He remembered how his stomach had fluttered at being called sensei again. How he had snorted an almost laugh at Iruka's questioning of the honorific. How his lip had twitched slightly upward knowing Iruka had been 'really' glad to see him. The way the fluttering in his stomach had increased with a vengeance at Iruka's closing kiss.

_'For fuck's sake.'_ Reaching again for his bourbon he took another two hefty gulps drowning all those uncapped thoughts under a haze.

**…**

Iruka lay in bed that night, phone in his hand just in case Kakashi was a night owl and wanted to meet in the evening. He knew the chances of this were practically zero. Even when he sent the text he was 80% sure they wouldn't see each other that day. He was expecting a reply though. At least a half-arsed excuse like the one he gave to stop Iruka coming to his house.

It had taken him forty minutes to write that text. Forty! And half of that was spent with his finger hovering over the send button. Even after all that time spent trying to devise the perfect text; not to heavy, apologising in a roundabout way for yesterday, telling him he was happy to see him then setting up their meeting, he was on the verge of a panic attack after realising he'd sent a kiss. It was second texting nature to him and he'd used it ever since he could remember. Yes, he'd had the habit even when he and Kakashi were still student and sensei, but wasn't it weird now that they were grown men?

Iruka pondered it for a while longer before letting it slide; there were more important matters at hand besides his texting etiquette. It was time to implement his next plan of attack. He'd already figured the first stage would be unsuccessful so, after an extremely long and arduous day, he was fully prepared for the next phase.

Kakashi awoke feeling groggy – and he loved it. His haze was still pretty thick; thick enough to camouflage all his persistent memories. Staggering round his apartment he moved to living room, placed himself in the ass-shaped indent on the coach and reached for the orange book on his coffee table. Icha Icha was almost better than alcohol at numbing his brain. On the rare occasion that there was no drink nearby, he always carried one of the trusty volumes to aid in quashing any unwelcome nostalgia.

He settled down for a long afternoon, only standing minutes later to retrieve a beer from the fridge. Not out of necessity, he convinced himself, just a refreshing beverage for the sake of it.

This was just fine. He was...content.

Then the doorbell rang.

_'I can't catch a fucking break!'_ Kakashi ignored it completely, reading on without a pause but the person at the door was unrelenting, adding rapid knocks between each bell ring. _'I swear if this is Gai.'_

Kakashi reluctantly sauntered towards the door, nose still stubbornly pressed between the pages of the pornographic novel. He opened the door.

"What do you want?" Kakashi sighed exasperatedly, still not looking up from the letters on the page.

"Umm...afternoon sensei".

Kakashi's head snapped up from the book, dizzying his brain enough to question whether this was a hallucination. There, on his doorstep, stood Iruka, his beautiful tanned skin feathered by an oncoming blush and a nervous smile twitching on his lips.

"Can I...can I come in?"

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Kakashi didn't panic. He had very few emotions in his repertoire, but panic was certainly not among them. His erratic heartbeat, sweaty palms and sudden urge to run must have been from something else.

A slack jaw was also unlike the silver-haired male so as soon as he realised he reunited his parted lips and recollected himself. Swallowing his beer-flavoured saliva, in an effort to soothe the throat he'd assaulted through last night's constant sickness, he attempted to speak.

"Wh..What are you doing here?" He kept his exterior nonchalant, hoping Iruka hadn't noticed the stutter and the fact his voice box sounded like it had been caught in a stampede of raging bulls.

Iruka noticed. He also noticed how there were dark heavy bags under his eyes that made a sharp contrast to his pale skin, which used to remind the teacher of fine china, but now resembled a dull greying paper plate. He noticed how he was still wearing the stained black sweatpants and creased off-white t-shirt from two days ago. He noticed the unmistakable stench of alcohol but he couldn't tell which; it was either one he didn't he know, or a concoction of many different ones.

The whole picture in the doorframe made him queasy with hurt. He so badly wanted to pull the taller man into his arms and squeeze out the darkness that was clearly overpowering him. He couldn't though. If he did, Kakashi would take it as pity - and there was nothing the man hated more. So he restrained. He folded the arms that were itching to reach out and stopped the edges of lips from dropping. He pulled all these unexpressed reactions into one annoyed-looking roll of his eyes.

"Gee, its nice to see you too Kakashi. We were meant to meet yesterday, remember. You didn't reply to my text so I figured I'd take the initiative. Are you going to let me in or just make me loiter on your doorstep?"

"Maa, Iruka, I already told you my house is a mess".

"Tsk, please. I used teach kindergarten classes. I can deal with mess".

"What kind of host would I be if I let my guest see my apartment in such a state? Besides I have no tea to offer you".

"Come on Kakashi. I'm not here as a guest and I don't want to drink tea. I just want to catch up with an old friend".

Kakashi's brain was working a mile a minute trying to come up with more excuse that could get Iruka as far away from him as possible. There was no way he was letting the teacher inside. The last person he let into his place was Gai and that had resulted in him being forced into those damn AA classes. The teacher would only worry and try pressuring him into seeking help he definitely didn't need. _'Why can't people just leave me be?'_

"Look, now's not a good time Iruka".

"When should I back then?" The teacher was insistent. He was prepared for any excuse.

Kakashi sighed deeply and smoothed his silver-hair back only for it to bounce back to its gravity-defying left lean. He would have run his fingers through it, but he wasn't willing to deal with the knots. If Iruka was still as hard-headed as he was when he was eight, and it certainly appeared so, this exchange would continue indefinitely. With another exasperated sigh he resigned himself to his fate.

"In an hour. We can go grab some food".

Iruka grinned, creasing the scar on his nose. "I'll be back at 5pm". With a parting wave the tanned man turned away from Kakashi's door, walked to the end of the corridor and entered the elevator.

As soon as the large silver doors closed he let out a shuddered breath and rested his head on the cool metal and stood in silence. He could still hear the raspy broken voice, though. His eyes were closed, but he could still see those sunken bags under his eyes and sallow skin. He was too far from Kakashi's door to still smell the alcohol but his stomach churned at the memory. _'Come on Iruka, pull yourself together!_ ' Groaning, he thumped his head on the doors before hitting the ground floor button.

**…**

Kakashi kept his face calm as he watched Iruka walk down the corridor and enter the elevator. As soon as the doors closed the man dropped his head, slapped a palm to his face and rubbed over his eyes. _'Fuck.'_ With the side of his fist he punched at the left side of the door frame with a deep groan. He could try to blame his anger on Iruka and the man's stubborn persistence, but he couldn't. He did want to see him. He really did. The thought of reuniting with his former student had crossed his mind countless times over the nine years. But not now. Not like this.

Closing the door and walking back into his apartment, Kakashi headed for the shower. The steaming water pounded on his back as the man lost himself in his memories. For the first time in a very long time, he let his thoughts run their course.

He remembered the day he told Iruka that he had achieved his yellow belt before the deadline and how the boy had jumped and wrapped his arms around his neck. Kakashi's chuckle bounced off the glass shower doors remembering how he had tensed from head to toe at the unfamiliar violation of his personal space and seriously contemplated kicking the boy away. He got used to it though. Over time that urge to push the boy away lessened to zero.

He remembered how strange he found the student at first. How strange it was that he was so ruled by his emotions. When he was happy, every bone in his body radiated a contagious brightness, which made the edge of Kakashi's lip twitch up whenever he was too close.

He remembered the first time he had seen Iruka cry. It was wrong. It was so out of place Kakashi had felt the unrelenting compulsion to stop it; to get that brightness back. He didn't exactly know how, but he let Iruka cry to him, or on him in particularly bad sessions, and patted his back methodically, answering any questions the kid asked him or 'hmm'-ing at appropriate intervals. He never knew if he was actually helping, but Iruka always came back, asking if they could chat. As long as it brought the brightness back quicker he always did.

Iruka respected him so completely; looking up to him in a way he looked up to no one else and that made Kakashi change. When he'd been enrolled into the karate class his sole goal was to improve his combat and leadership skills, making himself the best possible soldier he could be. He still had this goal in mind, obviously, he'd been on that track since birth, but that no longer became his only calling. Being there for Iruka, being the best sensei...the best friend he could be so the boy's respect was not wasted on him, became a priority as well.

_'My only two goals in life and I failed them both spectacularly. I was a terrible soldier and I certainly did not become someone worthy of Iruka's respect. Not that I still have to worry about that. If I didn't lose his respect when I left, I've certainly lost it now. I am scum. Just like Obito said'_

Kakashi's heart burned as his thoughts entered realms he certainly wasn't ready for. Sliding down the tiled wall of the shower, he brought his knees to his chest and buried his head in the valley between them trying with all his might to think of something...anything else. It wasn't working. He was replaying his last conversation with his deceased friend over and over in his head; Obito's last words echoing louder and louder each time.

Kakashi shot up and out of the shower, to his bedroom and reached for the bourbon under his bed. Pulling out the bottle he noticed it was nearly finished. He charged to his chest of drawers and found an unopened 250ml bottle of vodka beside his shirts. Taking it back to the shower, he returned to his position on the floor, the water still pounding at his back. After eight swigs, the vodka worked its magic; drowning out the memories and leaving his mind completely clear.

He could vaguely feel that the water was starting to get cold and there was a distant ringing somewhere, but he was going nowhere. He'd found it again; that contentment.

**…**

Iruka rang the bell for the sixteenth time. His knuckles were white from the almost fifteen minutes worth of knocking. He'd already left four missed calls. Resting his forehead on the door he closed his eyes. He knew the man was still home. His apartment was too far from Kakashi's to have made it back in time, so he'd stayed in the car park. Granted, he could have left from a different entrance into the apartment complex, but Iruka was sure he could hear the shower.

Five more minutes passed before Iruka turned, resting the back of his head where his forehead had been. He twisted his finger to ring the bell twice more. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Iruka groaned and kicked the door with his heel. He shouldn't be frustrated. It wasn't fair for him to be angry at Kakashi. He had no idea what the man was going through, but no matter how cool and collected Kakashi tried to pretend to be, it was obvious he was plagued by something. No, he couldn't be frustrated at the man; he'd just have to work harder next time. He wasn't ready to give up just yet though; he didn't want to leave yet. Ringing the bell once more, he slid down the door and sat cross legged.

The teacher lost track of time as he sat there, periodically knocking at the door over his shoulder. His mind was filled with plan after plan, all of which he had absolutely no faith in. He was startled out of his planning when his phone vibrated in his pocket. His hand dove into his pocket, a slither of hope telling him it could be Kakashi. He looked at the screen only to sigh when he saw his aunt's name there.

**How's it going brat? I hope you're making good use of that address I got you. I didn't endure a twenty-minute conversation with Gai for nothing, so you better be doing something productive over there. He might find you annoying but believe me, persistence is the key when it comes to stubborn people like him and I, so don't give up. Good luck kid x**

Iruka clicked off the text and went to his home-screen. 5.52pm; he'd been knocking on this door for nearly an hour. He thought about what Tsunade had said. Sitting outside his door was persistent alright, but it was certainly not productive. What exactly was he going to do once Kakashi came to the door, only to find that Iruka had been there this whole time? He'd tried so hard to act as casually as he could, if he was found out there in the corridor Kakashi would definitely know that his visit was stemmed from worry and wanting to help, rather than just the friendly catch up he'd suggested it was.

Making up his mind to try again tomorrow, Iruka attempted to get up off floor. His legs had fallen asleep though so he had to hold on to the door handle. The pins and needles in his feet rising up his legs had him putting his weight on the door, but as he did so, he pushed the handle down only for him to stumble into a darkened hallway.

Iruka stood frozen, mouth agape. After a few minutes he still didn't move but his eyes started to scan his surroundings. He couldn't see much; the corridor had no windows and the light was off. He still felt guilty though. Kakashi had made it strikingly clear he didn't want Iruka in his home and here he was, trespassing.

He sighed and stepped back. He gave the corridor one last once over before he turned to face away. Iruka stopped and furrowed his brow. He turned back to look at the second door on the left, the only one that was slightly ajar, with a sliver of yellow light shining out of it. That wasn't what stopped him though; he could still hear the shower...the shower he'd heard when he arrived nearly two hours ago. It had to be ice-cold by now. There's no way he was still in there, was there?

Before he knew what he was doing, Iruka had taken a few steps closer to the shower. "K-Kakashi?" There was no reply. Besides the sound of the water there was no sign of life. Maybe he'd left it on before he left. That seemed unlikely but if he'd been drunk he might have done. If he was in there though, he must be frozen by now. He'd looked ill enough earlier, he'd only get worse if he stayed in there.

"Kakashi?" Iruka tried a little louder and by now he was in front of the bathroom door. He was close enough now to hear that the water wasn't hitting the floor or the shower door or any other hard surface. The slightly muffled sound could only be caused by skin.

"Kakashi?" Still nothing. Iruka gave a few sharp knocks on the door making it creak slightly, but there was still no response from the other side. The teacher started to panic a little. Even with the sound of the shower, there was no way Kakashi wouldn't have heard him calling him three times and knocking.

Iruka's heart was thumping as he pushed the door open inch by inch. He felt like he shouldn't be there, he felt guilty about intruding where he wasn't welcome, but he was mostly scared about what he'd find on the other side of the door.

His heart seemed to stop completely once he caught sight of the glass corner shower cubicle. There, on the floor sat Kakashi; his knees pulled up to his chest and his head buried in the valley between them as the water hit his back. One arm was hooked across his shins, holding them together. The other arm was sprawled on his side, with an almost empty vodka bottle laid in the palm of his hand.

He hadn't noticed that he had been walking backwards until his back hit a wall. Sliding down like he'd done at the front door, he crossed his legs. His elbows dug into his knees as he buried his head in his hands. His breath was so ragged it bordered on hyperventilation and his palms were wet from his tears. For a few minutes all that could be heard were Iruka's sobs and the water pounding at Kakashi's back.

It had hurt when he'd seen his old sensei and what he'd become, but this didn't just hurt. It burned. It was absolutely agonising. He'd known Kakashi was in a bad place, but this...he couldn't handle this.

Iruka rose to his feet and darted down the corridor without so much as another glance at the bathroom. He didn't stop until he was in his car. His breath was laboured as he rested his forehead on the steering wheel. His keys were already in the ignition and he was ready to leave when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Taking it out, he saw a text from his friend Ayame asking if he wanted to go for ramen that evening. He clicked the back button wanting to go back to the home screen to check the time, when he stopped at his inbox. He saw the text Tsunade had sent him earlier and opened it once more.

_'Persistence is the key when it comes to stubborn people like him and I, so don't give up'._

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

_'Persistence is the key when it comes to stubborn people like him and I, so don't give up'._

Iruka banged his head on the steering wheel a few times. That sentence had been playing on his mind for the last fifteen minutes. He'd still not moved from the car park. Every time he considered turning the key that sat patiently in the ignition, a ripple of guilt would pass through him. At the same time, every time he glanced out of the windscreen in the direction of the entrance, he'd have to avert his gaze to stop his heart from trying to beat out of his chest.

_'If I go back in there, I'm trespassing and completely going against his wishes to not go in his house. Not only that, he'll be furious in the morning. He hates to look weak in front of anyone; if he knows I've seen him in that state and, even worse, try to get him out of it, he might never talk to me again. I can kiss goodbye to trying to get closer to him; he'll close up completely once he gets back to his senses.'_

Again, the teacher went to the keys in the ignition. This time he turned them and heard the rumble of the engine starting up. Putting his hands back on the steering wheel, he tightened his grip in an effort to subside the shaking. His foot was hovering over the pedal and he knew he should be driving, but as his eyes glanced again at the entrance to the apartment complex he turned the engine off, sighing deeply.

Even with all the reasons he had to leave, he couldn't do it, he wouldn't do it. The picture of a frail looking Kakashi, hunched in his shower, was pasted to his eyelids and wouldn't budge until Kakashi did. He was going to catch hypothermia if he stayed as he was.

_'All I have to do is get him out. I just have to knock on the shower door, make sure he wakes up and leave before he has chance to get furious and ban me from his life'._

Looking at the entrance once more, he could tell he was shaking slightly; dreading what lay on the other side of those doors. It had to be done though. The thought of leaving him like that filled him with too much shame because, if that had been him, his sensei wouldn't think twice about helping him. Hadn't he told himself that he was going to be there for Kakashi, whether he liked it or not? What kind of saviour falls at the first hurdle?

There was still a tremble to his fingers but his new resolve allowed Iruka to step out of his car, lock it and head for Kakashi's door. Standing in the elevator, the teacher took controlled breaths, clenching and unclenching his fingers in an effort to prepare himself. He couldn't cry this time.

The ping signifying Kakashi's floor came all too soon. He found himself outside the unlocked door and gingerly reached out for the handle. He opened it and once again found himself outside the bathroom. He'd left the door ajar the first time but he didn't dare raise his eyes to the sight before him yet. Another deep breath and he'd be ready.

Iruka slowly raised his eyes from the ground that they had been glued to. There he was; still curled into himself, his head lowered and the water still pounding at his back. The brown-haired man hadn't realised he'd been staring until he felt the familiar prickling of tears behind his eyes. Shaking his head and raising his eyes to the ceiling to keep the tears from falling, he took a few more deep breaths before stepping over the threshold of the bathroom.

It was incredibly modern. The floor, and the wall up to waist-height, was tiled with black granite, a sharp contrast to the white roll top bath to the left of the room and the white toilet, bidet and sink at the right. The upper half of the wall was the same crisp white as the bath, interrupted only by various mirrored cabinets and one extremely large mirror at the left of the back wall. It was beautiful really, if slightly dirty. There were a few rings of grime at different levels around the bathtub. The white mirrors were marred with watermarks that disturbed the reflection and there were assorted towels and clothes across the floor.

He looked at everything in the bathroom in meticulous detail; avoiding what he was really there for, but finally his eyes roamed toward the right corner of the back wall. The glass shower wasn't steamed in the slightest; in fact it was crystal clear. There was no chance of the water being anywhere near warm.

Walking towards the cubicle, Iruka stepped over a navy blue towel and a pair of black boxers before he found himself in front of the door. His hand hovered over the handle as his eyes were trained down on Kakashi. From here he seemed to tower over the taller man. From here he could see the goosebumps that ran all across his skin. So much skin. So much exposed skin.

A red tinge ran up Iruka's face at the realisation that Kakashi was, of course, naked, a fact he’d conveniently forgotten till then, but he did his best to push the irrelevant thought aside, his teeth trapping his bottom lip as he knocked on the glass. Kakashi didn't move an inch.

"Kakashi?" Iruka called out this time, but on receiving no reply he knocked louder. Still nothing.

His worry mounting, Iruka furrowed his brow and pulled slightly at the shower door. It easily popped open. The sound of the water hitting skin was much louder now and had Iruka wondering for a second whether that was the reason Kakashi hadn't heard him calling or knocking, but as it was the silver-haired still hadn't moved.

Rolling up his sleeve, the teacher leaned over Kakashi's pale body to reach the shower faucet. Wincing at what felt like icicles piercing through his forearm, he quickly turned it off and drew away his freezing arm.

Still no movement from Kakashi.

Kneeling down to get a look at the profile of his face, Iruka winced at the blue lips and utter lack of complexion. He gently placed a hand on his shoulder, biting his bottom lip at how his palm seemed to burn in comparison.

"Kakashi, wake up," he spoke in the man's ear, giving a tender shake to his shoulder. Nothing.

Iruka got up. The nervousness he'd felt coming here had simmered to the back of his mind as worry rose to the forefront. This wasn't good; Kakashi was completely unresponsive. Pulling open various mirrored cabinets in search for a clean towel, he found a large black one in the third cabinet. Bringing it over to his sensei, he wrapped the man in it, drying him in the process.

Still no movement from Kakashi.

Once again knelt beside the shower, Iruka gently dried the silver locks and all the skin that was exposed to him. He wasn't even embarrassed anymore. Fear was a much more demanding emotion.

"Kakashi. Kakashi, please. Please get up." Iruka was mildly aware that he was getting a bit frantic. His voice had been steadily rising as he repeated the man's name over and over, begging him to get up. His hands on the man's shoulder and knee shook a bit harder and he could feel the tears, that he'd done well to keep in till this point, start to roll down his cheeks. He wasn't sure how long this went on for, but eventually a quiet groan cut through his mantra of the other man’s name.

"Kakashi!"

"Hn." It was quiet, but it was a response.

Relief flooded over the teacher and he smiled despite the tears that were still cascading down his face. He was awake. Completely out of it, but awake; not unconscious or comatose.

"Y-you...you idiot. What are doing? You're gonna catch hypothermia. Come on, you need to get out".

"Hn." He groaned again; much louder this time.

"Come on, you have to get up." Iruka stood up, lifting with him Kakashi's elbow in an effort to get the man up. His arm raised but none of the rest of him moved. Iruka placed his hand on top of the silver locks, pushing them gently back to get a better look at his face. His eyes were still closed. Placing his other hand underneath his chin, he slowly tilted the head back.

"Kakashi," he spoke to closed eyes and blue lips. He saw eyelashes flutter before one eyelid rose revealing a bottomless pit of murky black. His pupils were impossibly dilated and unfocused. "Kakashi, it's Iruka. I need you to get out of the shower and into something warm."

"Ru..’Ruka?" His voice was so small and so broken, his gaze still blurred.

"Y-yeah, it's me. Get up, will you...please".

Kakashi's pupil focused, finally looking at Iruka; their eyes locking. The teacher's heartbeat accelerated. The man was still clearly absent-minded, but his stare seemed so intense Iruka couldn't help but look away. It was then he realised his hands were still stroking the top of Kakashi's head and the bottom of his chin. He let go as if the contact had burned him.

"Umm...can you get up?"

Kakashi didn't answer; he only continued to stare at Iruka, who squirmed under the intense gaze. There was a dense silence between them and the brunette felt the need to break it, along with the eye-contact.

"Y-you really should get out of the shower Kakashi."

"Why?" It was less of a word, more of a croak.

"Well...because. Y-you shouldn't sleep in the shower and...and the water was on all this time so you could catch hypothermia or something if you stay in here besides you can't be comfortable in there and if-"

"Why are you here?" Kakashi interrupted gruffly. Iruka stuttered, stumbling over his unfinished sentence as he tried to come up with something to say.

_'This is it. He's about to blow a fuse. He's about to kick me out and tell me never to come back'._

"I-I came back to pick you up for dinner like you told me to, and you didn't answer, and I was about to leave but I...well I kind of fell into the door, and I grabbed the handle but the door was unlocked, so I fell into the corridor, but I was going to leave, but then I heard that the shower was still on, and it had been more than an hour, and I knew it must have been freezing by then, so I called your name, but you didn't answer and I got worried and came in and saw you here."

By the time Iruka got to the end of his explanation he was out of breath. He was looking at the floor, waiting for the inevitable onslaught. He couldn't see that eye but he could still feel it boring into him.

"If I...no. I-I know I crossed the line. I'm sorry. Just...please get out of the shower".

**…**

To say Kakashi was confused would be an understatement. Everything seemed to be in a haze, and not the kind he usually welcomed. He didn't appreciate the blur at the edge of his memories; he wanted to be aware, to remember why he was in the shower and why Iruka was in his bathroom. He was sure he could feel gentle strokes through his hair and at his chin but it stopped before he could fully grasp what it was. He focused on the younger man stood above him. He looked so concerned, so worried, so hurt but he couldn't figure out why.

"Why?"

He watched as Iruka began babbling in the nervous way he did when he was younger. He was making no sense. He was confusing Kakashi more. _'Hypothermia?'_

"Why are you here?" Kakashi watched fascinated as the tanned skin on the man's cheeks flushed under his gaze and how he began tripping over his syllables. The monologue that followed was too hurried for the weary man to catch it all. Thankfully, though the last part was considerably quieter, it was much slower, so he clearly heard the apology and the plea to get out of the shower.

"Okay," _'if it'll get that worried look off his face.'_

Kakashi attempted to get up, but winced at the feeling of his muscles resisting. He was so tense, so rigid, as if frozen. As he reached up to grab onto the shower door he noticed his hands were shaking. His whole body was shivering. He gripped the shower door and made an effort to hoist himself up, to no avail.

**…**

Iruka watched as Kakashi tried to get up. He was too weak. His strong, reliable, responsible, invincible sensei was too weak to lift the weight of his own legs. The brunette bit into his lip and pushed back his tears with all his might. It was evident that the older man was not yet completely conscious of everything so he was sure he wouldn't notice how his eyes must have been glistening with unshed tears.

He couldn't stand there watching the man struggle, so in a swift move that would have made his sensei proud, he bent down slipped an arm behind Kakashi's back and placed the man's arm over his shoulder before the fatigued man could blink. The quicker he did this the less time there was for the man to resist or protest.

Iruka blushed as he became vaguely aware that the towel had remained in the shower cubicle, but he persevered nevertheless, quickly walking the man to what he assumed was the bedroom across the hall.

**…**

The skin at his back burned where Iruka grabbed him. Everywhere his skin made contact with the other man seemed to sizzle. Before he knew what was happening he was hoisted onto his feet. The movement was so sudden everything around him spun out of focus. It was like vertigo. The only thing keeping him from falling was the man at his side keeping him upright.

Everything around him seemed so distorted, so unclear, he was sure if the man let go he too might fade into that obscurity, but he held him tight, not letting him drift into the darkness that was trying to overcome him again. He was like his anchor.

The spinning seemed to subside substantially as he was lowered on his back. Everything was still so dark though; so shady and uncertain. The once sharp edges of his psyche were so blunt and it was confusing how a state that had been his source of comfort for months was now causing him such anxiety.

He felt the covers being tucked around him; a toasty cocoon that held in his shivers. A hand came up to smooth away the stray damp hairs at his forehead, lulling him into a sense of calm despite the darkness still lurking at the fringes of his consciousness.

The hand went to pull away and Kakashi was filled with a sense of dread. If his anchor left surely he would drown under that darkness; the haze would surely overcome him.

"Don't go."

"...Uh. I-I have class in the morning and it's probably best if you get your rest and I wouldn't want to..."

"Please."

**…**

How could he say no to that? If Kakashi needed him here tonight, and every other night until he was better, he would stay.

Iruka sat on the bed, on top of the covers, his back against the headboard and his legs swung over the bed besides Kakashi. Pulling out his phone from his pocket, he sent a quick text to the teacher he'd covered for two weeks ago, hoping she would forgive him for the short notice.

He looked down at the man beside him and began to smooth his fingers through his damp hair once again.

The inebriated man laid his head on Iruka's lap and once again calmed at the feel of those warm fingers running through his silver locks.

Kakashi had been wrong before. This was it; this was contentment.


	8. Chapter 8

Kakashi awoke with his usual bout of nausea but he didn't stagger to his bathroom as was typical of mornings after a particularly heavy binge. That morning he lingered in his bed; eyes still closed enjoying the warmth.

Yes, his head was banging and, yes his stomach was churning to foreshadow a future purge of its contents, but he was warm. He was well rested. He felt comfortable and utterly content lying there under his covers.

Forcing his eyes open, Kakashi was met by a grey ceiling highlighted by the rays of light escaping from the partially closed blinds at the other side of the room. With his eyes open the soldier felt much more awake. He still couldn't feel much past the aching in his head and the warmth around him though. The uncharacteristic cosiness. The heat around his waist, against his chest and up against his right side.

Kakashi tore his eyes away from the ceiling. His brow furrowed and his heart jumped at the mass of chocolate locks spread out over his chest.

_'There's no way I was that drunk last night...'_

Calming down so he could properly assess the situation, the man eased slightly away from his anonymous bedfellow, ignoring the way the sledgehammer at his temples sped up at the movement. He slid until the head fell away from his chest on to the edge of his right arm. Looking down at himself once more, Kakashi was surprised to see that he was tucked in his covers while his companion was fully clothed above the covers.

The brunette squirmed next to him, apparently in search of the warmth he'd been robbed of. The strands that had been covering his face shifted as he moved his head, allowing his cheek better purchase on his body pillow.

Kakashi's breath caught in his throat at the sight of an outstretched scar sitting on a straight tan nose that broke past the curtain of brown locks.

_'Iruka?!'_

The nausea that had been simmering in the back of his senses soared to the forefront and he found himself tumbling out of his bed and, as soon as the world righted itself, staggering across the hallway to empty his gut in the toilet.

**…**

Iruka jumped as he heard a soft thud. His eyes were still hazy from the impromptu awakening but he caught sight of a pale blur wavering at the bedside. He furrowed his brow and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands in a bid to clear his morning sight.

The teacher gasped at the view that welcomed his freshly cleared vision. The heat in his face multiplied as his eyes roved over the ivory skin of his sensei's back. Frail scars painted a faded map across the muscular expanse. He could tell his breath was beginning to hurry as his eyes took a leisurely stroll south. He gulped as his burning gaze fell upon the identical dimples marking the beginning of the curve of the cheeks before, all too soon, the godlike stature finally stumbled its way into the corridor, away from prying eyes.

Iruka hadn't realised he'd been leaning slowly forward toward the end of the bed, trying to catch another glimpse, until he had to pull himself back at the last minute to stop himself from falling off. The shock from having to grab at the sheets so suddenly snapped him out of his Kakashi-induced daze.

Leaning back on the bed he collapsed on his back, arm over his eyes, lips parted to suck in maximum oxygen, in an attempt to normalise the breathing that had momentarily ceased.

_'H-he's beautiful...'_

Iruka was affected. Those broad shoulders and that tall, lean build covered in the most precious porcelain had affected him. The brunette felt feverish. He was flustered and blushing and butterflies were running rampant in his stomach.

"Bleaaaauurghhhhcchhhhhhhhhhhhhujjeee."

Iruka bolted up and winced at the wretched sound that brought him straight out of his musings. He hopped off the bed and headed for the bedroom door. Before he even entered the corridor, he could see the bathroom. The door was open and he could see the left side of that ivory idol hunched on his knees over the toilet.

_'Beautiful. So beautiful but... so broken.'_

He stood there, feeling some of the butterflies in his stomach wither away as Kakashi spat in his toilet. Slumping his head on the seat, the silver-haired man appeared to be done, the only sounds in the apartment being his occasional sniffs and hiccups.

Even if he had known what to do, Iruka wasn't sure if he'd have been able to move. Before he'd even got a chance to try, Kakashi leaned back over the bowl and spewed his guts once more, the sound hitting Iruka, forcing him to look away and unsuccessfully fight back tears.

The vomiting subsided momentarily and the teacher found himself slowly walking into the corridor. He paused at the threshold of the bathroom, still unsure of what to do. The sickly sound of a dry heave pushed him into action. He walked into the bathroom about to reach out to his sensei when he became aware of his nakedness. Striding back into the bedroom, he rummaged through the clothes on the floor and the desk chair before catching a glimpse of a black bathrobe behind the bedroom door. Grabbing it, he turned to leave when he caught sight of a bottle of aspirin and empty glass on the bedside table. Taking both with him he went back to the bathroom door. He lingered again, but with a mission in mind he pressed forward. Iruka filled the glass with water from the sink and placed it and the aspirin beside the toilet. Kakashi was once again resting his cheek on the toilet seat; eyes closed, seemingly unmoved by Iruka's actions.

Stood behind the hunched man, he hesitated slightly before covering the beautiful back in the black bathrobe.

**…**

The bathroom floor was cold and uncomfortable but it was a familiar feeling. What was not familiar was the feel of eyes watching him and the sound of another pair of lungs sharing his air.

_'I'm naked. I'm sat on my bathroom floor, hanging on to my toilet and vomiting in front of the last person in the world I would want to see me like this.'_

He pushed the thought aside; it was doing nothing to alleviate his headache. He would think it over later. In fact, he had a few bottles of sake, stashed in the cabinet below the radio in the living room, just perfect for the job.

His stomach protested at the reminder of alcohol and he would have purged some more if there was anything left to get rid of, but it settled for a dry heave instead. His head felt like it was splitting at the action but he still heard quick shuffling behind him and in the bedroom. He was too dizzy to decipher it so he settled for resting his cheek on the toilet seat and closing his eyes until his head stopped punishing him.

His eyes almost opened at the clink of a glass beside him but his curiosity wasn't as heavy as his eyelids. He could tell that Iruka was still in the room but he seemed to just be stood behind him. He didn't time have to work out what the man was doing before he felt himself enveloped into something warm. He almost purred at the comfort of the soft material against his back but managed to pull it back into a light sigh.

"I...th-there's a glass of water and aspirin beside you...y-you probably have a killer headache." Kakashi was almost drifting into slumber, induced by the cotton cocoon when he heard the stuttered whisper.

"Hn," Kakashi groaned. He was hoping the silence between them would continue indefinitely. Silence meant that they didn't have acknowledge the situation they were in.

"I'm not sure what else you need. I-I think food is a good idea...I could maybe make something or go out and get something if there's something you want in particular."

The older man stayed silent. Iruka clearly didn't share the same desire to overlook their current predicament. He remained soundless and motionless hoping the man would get the message and leave.

"I-if you don't want to eat yet you might want to sleep some more; it's still only 11am. I do think you need to eat though, I can make lunch while..."

"I don't need anything."

"..."

_'So now he's silent.'_

Kakashi was annoyed. It was irrational and he knew it, but that didn't stop him feeling it.

_'I'm here more times a week than he has class, why the hell would he think he knows what I need all of a sudden. Why is he even here?'_

"Why are you even here?" He was aware that his voice sounded icier than he intended it to. He wasn't angry, just annoyed and confused.

**…**

"I don't need anything."

Iruka was frozen to the spot. What was he supposed to say to that? Kakashi's voice was still croaky but there was no denying that irritated tone.

_'What am I doing? Of course he doesn't need anything. Just because this is new for me doesn't mean it is for him. He must find me so patronising. Maybe I should have left."_

He felt like he'd already failed.

"Why are you even here?" The question brought Iruka out of his thoughts and the sense of guilt that had been threatening to approach was immediately wiped out in favour of defiance.

"I'm here, Kakashi, because you asked me to stay."

The silver head spun to face Iruka, the two making eye-contact for first time that day. Confusion was plastered all over the older man's face; it was obvious he remembered little or nothing of what happened the night before.

"What?"

"Last night. I was set to leave and you asked me not to."

Kakashi said nothing. He turned his head away from Iruka, catching sight of the water and aspirin beside him. His head was screaming at him to take it but he resisted. Iruka sighed exasperatedly watching him turn away from the painkillers.

"Have the aspirin Kakashi."

"I told you I don't need anything. I clearly wasn't in my right mind when I asked you to stay. You know where the door is."

"Why do you have to be so stubborn? I'm only trying to be here for you!"

"I didn't ask you to be!"

"You did yesterday."

"Like I said, I wasn't in my right mind."

"...Drunken minds speak sober truths, Kakashi."


	9. Chapter 9

"Drunken minds speak sober truths, Kakashi."

The older man turned to half-face Iruka with an incredulous look in his narrowed eye. "What do you mean by that?"

"Come on, you know what I'm getting at."

The eye narrowed further, looking at the tanned man as if he was speaking in tongues. "Enlighten me."

Iruka sighed and rubbed at his scar. This is not how this morning was supposed to go. He should have been expecting it though. _'Show a little affection to Kakashi Hatake, you better be prepared for the Spanish Inquisition.'_

"Well...it's just...if you didn't want me here you wouldn't have asked me stay, whether you were in your right mind or not. Even if you're not willing to accept it, somewhere deep down you wanted me-my company."

"Yes, so deep down, in fact, that I have no recollection of it."

"It doesn't even matter. I'm here now. I'm going to go get some lunch ready."

"Stop," Kakashi commanded before Iruka had even turned fully towards the door. "I said yesterday I didn't want you in my house and I meant it."

"But-"

"I meant it, Iruka."

The younger man opened his lips to speak but Kakashi had already turned away from him, effectively calling an end to their debate.

**…**

Kakashi turned away from Iruka hoping to regain his silence. He did, but it wasn't exactly golden. Without the unwelcome distraction of the other man, the hacking at his temples was far more pronounced. He wasn't so sure it was the alcohol alone though; the other man's words were resonating with him, repeating themselves and forcing him to take notice.

_'If drunken minds do speak sober truths, somewhere deep down I wanted him to stay. I wanted him to see me so weak. How the fuck can that be true? Yes, I know he has no respect for me anymore, but why the hell would I want him to bear witness to what I've become? For most of my twenty-seven years of living I've never asked anyone for help. Not once. Then Iruka comes along and suddenly I'm asking people to spend to the night. What is it about that stubborn man?!'_

By this point Kakashi was grinding his teeth and looking at the toilet with all the ferocity of a rabid wolf. If there was one thing the genius hated, it was not understanding a situation. If there was one thing he loathed with every fibre of his being, it was not understanding himself.

Only one other person had made him question himself.

The man fisted his hands in his hair, the robe slipping a bit further down his shoulders. ' _No. No, no, not now. Not when I can't drink anything to make it easier.'_

His fingers tightened around his silver strands, but his thoughts were already entering unwelcome territory.

**…**

Iruka stood there fuming. 'Stupid, stubborn soldiers.'

He stood there, looking at the man's back. The silence was unnerving. He couldn't offer to make food again; he doubted he'd be able to persuade the man to let him in his kitchen. He didn't particularly want to leave and get food either; the probability of being let back in was slim to none. He looked around the bathroom and considered drawing the man a warm bath as he caught sight of the roll top.

Looking at Kakashi once more, he parted his lips to offer his bath idea, but, before he could, he saw slim pale fingers bury themselves in a silver forest. Iruka closed his mouth, his words lost upon seeing the older man's obvious distress. He stood there; not taking his eyes off those fingers as they slowly began to tighten around the hair. The tighter his fingers wound, the tenser his shoulder became, the robe slipping further until it pooled at his waist.

Iruka's feet padded one in front of the other on the cold, black granite tiles. He kneeled behind the man, his knees just about touching the other man's feet. Lifting his hands, he hesitated for the first time since he'd started moving, but seeing those fingers tighten to a surely painful degree, he pushed aside his hesitation, reached for the pale wrist and wrapped his own tanned fingers around them.

**…**

Kakashi’s eye widened at the sight of the tanned fingers that had enfolded themselves around his wrists. He narrowed his eye in the next moment. Had he been so lost in thought that he hadn't heard Iruka kneel behind him? _'A poor excuse for a soldier indeed.'_

The fingers, that had merely been resting, started to pull gently at his wrists. He resisted, burying his fingers deeper in his hair, but the fingers only pulled harder.

"Let me go, Iruka."

"Shut up."

Kakashi gaped at the audacity. He must have loosened his grip as well because he found his hands steadily heading south. He followed their decent and watched as his hands were placed on his bare thighs. The fingers still didn't let up on his wrists, but the thumbs on each hand circled tenderly at his pulse. He felt the tension in his shoulders ebb away under the slow caress of those thumbs. His eye slowly closed as he basked in the unfamiliar comfort.

His mind emptied to nothing but the subtle soothing he was receiving. A sudden heat landed between his shoulder blades, snapping him out of his stupor. His eye widened yet again as he felt a warm moist breath travel down his spine. His skin tingled under the sensation.

Kakashi closed his eye once more, savouring the touch and the breath for a while longer. He knew he had to pull away soon. It felt so good to feel the heat resonating from the other man, to feel the way all his muscles seemed to loosen just from the minute massages at his pulse-points – but he had to pull way. He had little pride left to lose, but he would cling to any thread that remained. He'd be damned if he accepted the other man's pity.

He let out a deep sigh, already lamenting the loss that was about to occur. With his left hand, heavy from Iruka's grip, he reached over to his right and unfurled the tan fingers from his wrist. He didn't have to repeat the process for the opposite side as Iruka's hands slipped away of their own accord, retreating somewhere he couldn't see.

The heat between his shoulder blades and the moist breath running down his spine remained.

"You should go." His own voice sounded distant to him. In that moment there were few things he desired less than Iruka's departure but he didn't take back his words. There was no reply but he felt the pressure shift slightly from left to right as the man behind him shook his head. "Iruka...you should-"

"Why?" Kakashi managed to repress the shiver as he felt the sudden rush of humid air against his spine from that one word.

The older man sighed heavily and wavered for a while before he was sure his voice would project with enough conviction. "I don't want your pity."

Kakashi felt the immediate loss of heat as Iruka bolted upright.

"You think I'm here because I pity you?!" Kakashi couldn't understand why he sounded so shocked. _'He probably didn't think I'd notice. I'm hung-over, not an idiot'_. He felt irritation begin to boil within him at that thought. He wasn't going to grace him with an answer to such a patronising question.

"Just leave, Iruka."

**…**

Iruka felt his fingers being forcibly unfolded from Kakashi's wrist but did nothing to stop them. Instead he kicked himself for being so stupid.

_'I took it too far. Why the hell am I resting my head on his back?'_ His arms had been yearning to wrap themselves around the pale male's body, wanting to cocoon Kakashi with his own skin like he'd done with the blanket last night, to just hold him for a moment, to shield him from all this despair, but he couldn't that. He knew he couldn't do that but his bones had yearned for something, anything. He'd figured this would be an acceptable compromise but evidently it was more than just a few steps too far. 

He screwed his eyes shut, awaiting the anger that was sure to fly in his direction any moment from now. Drawing his hands away from the man, he folded them in his lap, biting his lip as he continued to wait. He didn't move his head though, he wanted to maintain any contact he could until it was absolutely necessary to flee.

The barrage of complaints he was expecting never came though. Kakashi's voice was quiet and...hesitant? It was probably his imagination, but he was already reluctant to move; it would take more than that to budge him. He shook his head where it lay on the other man's back. When Kakashi began to speak, definitely sounding hesitant this time, Iruka couldn't help himself in questioning the man. He couldn't think of a single reason why he'd want him to go and the older man didn't sound like he could either.

"I don't want your pity."

Iruka pulled away from Kakashi in an instant, his eyes boring in the back of his head as if he'd find answers there. "You think I'm here because I pity you?" He couldn't help the way his voice jumped an octave higher at what he was being accused of.

"Just leave, Iruka."

The younger man's jaw dropped and he blinked repeatedly trying to figure out how they had suddenly gone from sitting contentedly as one, to him being ordered out like he'd committed some wrong against the man.

"Is that what you really think?" Kakashi scoffed at his whispered question, effectively answering him and angering him.

Iruka's left hand gripped at Kakashi's right shoulder and tugged until he could see the pale profile of his face. He stared into that one black eye, not removing his hand from the shoulder.

"Answer my question Kakashi! Do you honestly think I'm here because I pity you?"

The aforementioned raised a delicate grey brow; a light gesture marred by the cynicism evident all over his face. "Why else would you be here?"

Iruka's hand dropped as if paralysed by the iciness of the other's voice and the pierce of his glare. He watched as the man turned back away from him, but that wasn't going to end the conversation this time.

"I don't pity you Kakashi. I'm sorry that you had to go through...whatever it was that happened in the Army that affected you this way and it hurts me to see you like this because of it. But I don't pity you; you can't have pity for someone you care for, you just...you care for them. That's why I'm here, you idiot. Not because I feel sorry for you, but because I care about you. I want you to get better and-"

"There's nothing wrong with me."

Iruka gasped in incredulity. "Nothing wrong with you? You passed out in a freezing cold shower after downing a bottle of vodka, Kakashi! Don't you dare tell me there's nothing wrong!"

As soon as the words had left his mouth Iruka winced at how Kakashi's shoulders tensed. He hadn't meant to raise his voice or sound so insensitive. Breathing in deeply before letting the air out slowly, he began again, careful to not to raise his voice this time.

"It's just...it hurts. It physically hurts seeing you like this and not being able to do anything. Pity? You really thought that's why I was here?" Iruka tutted with a roll of his eyes, not believing he was even having to explain himself like this. "You know the funny thing is, if the shoe was on the other foot, if I was where you are right now, you'd be doing exactly the same as I'm doing. Actually, you'd probably be doing a better job; I'm clearly failing at the whole comfort thing. You could always make me feel better. I know it was mostly just stupid kid's stuff back then but you didn't stay with me and talk to me and comfort me because you pitied me, did you? Did you?"

"Of course, not." His voice was low, as was his head, but Iruka heard. He sighed, content that he'd got through the man.

"Then don't ever accuse me of being here because I pity you. I care about you Kakashi...a lot."

Iruka stood and turned away from the man. He walked over to the roll top bath, grimacing at the rings of grime around it. He remembered a cupboard with cleaning products he'd found while looking for a towel last night. He returned to the bath, sponge and all-purpose cleaner in hand, but stopped upon seeing Kakashi still knelt in front of the toilet.

"Take your aspirin. I'm running you a bath and then I'm gonna leave and bring back some food for us."

He finished his task. The water was hot and pure; he didn't think the man would appreciate a fancy bubble bath right now. He walked to the bathroom door, lingering in the frame, turning  back to see Kakashi's eye trained intently on him.

"Umm...I'll be back in like an hour. I'm taking the keys."

Iruka continued out the door, stopping for a second when he thought he'd heard a muffled 'thanks' from the other room. 


	10. Chapter 10

_'I care about you Kakashi...a lot.'_

That line kept on repeating itself in Kakashi's mind as he continued to stare at the vacated corridor long after he'd heard the jingle of keys, the creak of the door and the slam of it shutting. He hadn't known what to think, let alone what to say to Iruka's outburst. He certainly couldn't argue with the younger man's logic; had their roles been reversed he knew he'd be doing the same thing.

Sighing in defeat he reached for the aspirin and water, swiftly swallowing the medicine and desperately looking forward to the relief it would bring him. Grabbing on to the sides of the bowl, he hoisted himself up, dropping the robe fully as he tried to right himself on his still unsteady feet. He grimaced, flushing the toilet, before turning to see the clear water, steam rising off the surface, enticing his tense muscles. He dipped a hand in, confirming that it felt as heavenly as it looked. Immersing himself in the pure warmth of the water, Kakashi almost felt absolved of all the impurity he'd subjected his body to recently. His joints loosened as did his grip on reality as he slowly slipped into a light slumber.

**…**

Iruka felt like he'd won a small victory. He wasn't naive. He knew this was just the beginning, but fingering the Konoha symbol on Kakashi's silver keyring in his pocket, he couldn't help but feel like he'd accomplished something.

On entering his car he checked his phone for the first time that day. A text from the teacher, who was covering him today, saying he owed her one, reminded him that he still had a job. It also reminded him that he had a stack of marking and a week's worth of lesson planning he still needed to do. Cursing his procrastination, he decided to swing by his house before picking up lunch.

In his own modest home, he gathered his school work before a question struck him. _'What if he asks me spend the night again?'_

He was annoyed by the involuntary blush that arose from the thought. He knew it was because of the eyeful of Kakashi he'd received that morning and the memory only served to deepen the heat in his cheeks. He remembered the pale dimples that marked the beginning of those muscular globes…

Iruka ran a hand down his heated face, letting out an exasperated breath. _'This is Kakashi I'm thinking about! Kakashi...as in my sensei, my teacher, practically a big brother, practically my guardian!'_

Even as he thought these words, there was no conviction in them. Though he'd never thought of the older male in such an intimate way before, he'd be lying if he said his feelings for the other never crossed the line of mere teacher and student. The respect and adoration he had when he was a boy inevitably led to his first crush as a teen; not that he'd ever tell his emotionally-stunted sensei that. _'Not that I'd ever tell the man I'm trying to help out of alcoholism either.'_

Iruka shuffled his paperwork, trying to get his mind on a purer path. There had to be something fundamentally wrong with his moral compass for him to be having such perversions over someone who he'd seen throw up more times than he'd seen him smile.

Still, deciding to air on the side of caution, he packed an overnight bag and headed for Ichiraku's, reminiscing about all the times Kakashi had taken him to the ramen stand when he'd managed to land a hit during a sparring session or impressed his sensei in anyway.

**_…_ **

It was only the chill of the now-cold bathwater that roused Kakashi from his nap. That much needed siesta and the aspirin had done their job. He wasn't exactly feeling sprightly but he was well; no headache, no joint-ache, no stomach-ache. Lethargy was still an issue but he doubted when Iruka returned they’d be doing anything more than sitting, eating and talking for a bit.

Kakashi bolted upright; he had to sort out the kitchen and living room ASAP. There was no way he'd let Iruka see the rooms in their current state. Climbing out the bath, he went to reach for a towel when he caught sight of the almost-empty vodka bottle in the shower cubicle.

_'You passed out in a freezing cold shower after downing a bottle of vodka, Kakashi! Don't you dare tell me there's nothing wrong!'_ He frowned at the memory; Iruka was always one blow things out of proportion.

Wrapping a black towel around his waist, he'd barely left the bathroom when he heard the jingle of keys at the door.

**…**

Iruka dropped his jaw and almost dropped his bags at the sight that welcomed him when he opened Kakashi's front door. There, in all his half-naked glory stood a demigod. His silver hair was darkened with moisture, gravity finally taking its toll on it, sweeping it back past his neck. The teacher's eyes roamed down the glistening chest, taking in the tight pectorals and erect pink nipples that sat upon them. His tanned cheeks reddened as he took in the definition of the abs, gulping as his eyes followed a bead of water as it descended to Kakashi's silver happy trail before it disappeared underneath that damn towel.

"-et for lunch?" The brunette snapped out of his reverie, snapping his gaze away from the towel to Kakashi’s eye, above which a grey eyebrow was arched.

"Wh-what?" He croaked, still slightly dazed.

Kakashi chuckled, amusement evident in his voice as he repeated himself. "I said, what did you get for lunch?"

Iruka momentarily forgot his embarrassment as he remembered the lunch he was hoping to surprise his sensei with. He smiled and held up the bags so Kakashi could see the logo. His smile grew to a full-blown grin as he watched the single eye widen at the realisation.

"Ichiraku's?!"

"Yep!" He chuckled as a he saw the nostalgia in Kakashi's eye. "C-come on, get...dressed. I'm starving. I'm going to plate this up."

"Wait."

**…**

Kakashi had perfected countless techniques in resistance and restraint, but as he saw Iruka face slowly redden to an almost-magenta shade, he couldn't suppress the smirk that crawled upon his lips. Seeing the young man look so flustered, as his brown eyes so clearly raked over his wet body, he couldn't help but feel a tingle of sadistic glee at knowing he was turning the normally sweet, composed teacher into mush before his very eyes. He felt a rogue droplet of water form from the moisture on his chest and glide its way down his abdomen, watching as Iruka gulped, seemingly following the droplet as it headed south, before disappearing under his towel.

Kakashi knew his looks were striking, this reaction not being an uncommon one, but as the tanned man's gaze lingered on the periphery of the towel, he began to feel a stirring in the pit of his stomach. The smirk he'd been wearing began to ebb away as he realised that he was heating up under that intense gaze. He could practically see the lusty aura emanating from Iruka; he was filling the corridor with it, enveloping Kakashi in it. If this carried on, he really would give the teacher something to look at in the towel-region his eyes were still glued to.

"S-so...what did you get for lunch?" He was annoyed that his stutter evidenced how affected he was by the situation, but relieved that the tanned man, in his own daze hadn’t seemed to notice. Asking again, he managed to sound unperturbed this time, but the clogs in his head were whirring, halting only when he saw the bags being held up for his inspection.

"Ichiraku's?!" Kakashi mind immediately backtracked to the day before he left for the Army. He'd taken the fourteen-year old ramen addict for a meal only one of them knew would be their last. _'The last for nine years at least...'_

He broke out of his memories hearing Iruka stutter before he was reminded of his state of undress. Before he could make a move to rectify it, he saw Iruka turn to head to the kitchen.

"Wait." He still hadn't managed to clean it, or his living room for that matter. He contemplated just letting the man go when he realised the only alternatives were his bathroom and bedroom, but Iruka already thought he had a 'problem'. There was no need to add fuel to those flames with visual evidence. "Just...wait there. We can eat in my room."

**…**

Iruka watched, dumbfounded as Kakashi disappeared in his room and closed the door behind him. The tanned man let himself slump against the front door, his overnight bag falling off his shoulder and the Ichiraku's bag placed carefully on the hallway table beside him. He was confused by the odd choice of venue, but as long as Kakashi was no longer in the hallway, it was a good thing.

Though, his semi-hardness would disagree…

'Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuucckkk,' was the only coherent thought he could muster, banging his head against the door as he tried to calm himself down.

**…**

Kakashi slumped back against his bedroom door as soon as he closed it. 'Fuck.'

Iruka had had the look of a cannibal who was suddenly starving and he felt his heart rate normalise now that he was no longer on the menu. Although, he was pretty sure he wouldn't really have minded...

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence and minor canon character death.

Kakashi raided his closet; he managed to find a single clean pair of black jeans. In search of a t-shirt, he got on his knees before his chest of drawers, rummaging through them. Pulling out a dark green one from the back of the bottom drawer, he unfolded it to check its cleanliness only to be faced with the Konoha Army symbol.

Shoving it back in the depths of his drawer he took a long shaky breath. His mind backtracked to the last time that image had been on him. Turning slightly to his left, he looked at his bed. The bottles underneath it were calling to him like a siren song and it took all his power not to give in and crawl to them, but like he’d said, he was trying his best to hold on to those last few crumbs of dignity. He’d at least stand and walk to there.

Standing up he took the few steps to his bed, now facing the black jeans he'd laid out on top. He stood there, caught in an internal battle; the jeans on top of the bed or bottles beneath it. Glancing over his shoulder to his bedroom door, he pictured the man on the other side of it.

With a speed and efficiency he hadn't used since his last tour on duty, Kakashi got into the jeans and found a navy blue polo shirt with only a few imperceptible stains. Cramming away everything strewn across the floor, bed, desk and chair, while pretending that siren call wasn’t as loud as ever, he looked over the room and believed it was finally presentable.

Straightening his outfit, feeling strange in garments that weren't sweatpants and a loose tee, shaky fingers pulled at the hem of his top as he shuffled uncomfortably before the door. He stopped, berating himself for the unwelcome and unsuitable nerves he was showcasing, before taking a steadying breath and opening the door.

**…**

Iruka's eyes flew open and he straightened up as he heard the bedroom door click open and he watched the man emerge. He couldn't keep his twitching lips from spreading into a smile. This Kakashi...this Kakashi was so like his Kakashi.

This man stood so nonchalantly leaning on the doorframe, hands casually tucked in the pocket of his jeans. His skin looked like the untainted porcelain he'd admired as a kid and, even though he had a look of indifference, it wasn't the lifeless void he'd seen the last few days. Iruka continued to stare with a content smile on his face, until he saw an ever-elegant brow hitch up.

Dropping his probably creepy look, he averted his gaze and looked to the Ichiraku bags. "Uh...can we eat now?"

His smile came back full force as he heard Kakashi's amused snort and saw the smirk he tried to hide as he turned back into the room. Grabbing the bags, he followed behind. Kakashi sat on the edge of the bed, Iruka taking the more modest desk chair and scooting it closer to his host. Wasting no time the younger man pulled out the take-away ramen containers and chopsticks.

"Which did you get?" Kakashi asked, examining the new cylindrical containers that definitely hadn’t been around nine years ago.

Iruka laughed at his sceptical look. "Pork miso obviously! Did you really think I'd forget your favourite?"

He watched with satisfaction as Kakashi looked at him, his cool expression from earlier momentarily replaced by a slightly stunned look. He didn't miss the small smile just before he took his first bite either.

His chopsticks remained in mid-air however and Iruka watched with confusion as his eye widened.

"Wh-what's wrong? Do you not like it? I can go get someth-"

"This...this tastes exactly the same."

The flavours that hit Kakashi's tongue in that first bite weren't like the ones he'd had all those years ago; they were the ones. If he closed his eyes it could have been fifteen years ago when he'd been dragged to the ramen stand by a ramen-addicted eight year old after he'd managed to get his yellow belt. He smiled at the memory.

Iruka couldn't help but match that look. Knowing he'd made him smile– not grin, but genuinely smile – made his stomach flutter in an interesting way. He wanted to do it again. He wanted to do it all the time.

"Hmmm what did you expect? Old man Teuchi would never change his recipe."

"Teuchi still runs the shop?!"

"Yeah, Ichiraku's hasn't changed one bit. Ayame still helps out too."

"Wow. It seems like nothing's changed."

"Yeah mostly; pretty much everyone's still in town. Oh remember Asuma and Kurenai from our class; the black belts that used to fight constantly – they got married last year."

Kakashi choked on the information and Iruka couldn’t help but laugh aloud, patting Kakashi on his back as he coughed between his own laughter. The afternoon continued; Iruka regaling tales of all their old peers, everything that had changed in their small town and everything that had remained as it was. The older man listened, enraptured by his words and the way his chestnut eyes lit up.

They'd long since finished their ramen and Kakashi lay on his bed, full and satisfied by his first proper meal and his first proper conversation in a while. Iruka, mid-way through a description of how the local hot springs had been renovated, noticed the deep, even breaths coming from his companion. Smiling at the rested look on the older man's face, he swivelled the desk chair back to base and pulled out all the marking he needed to do.

Full from ramen, exhausted from the day's antics and bored of the monotonous task of marking, it wasn't long until he followed Kakashi into slumber.

**…**

The deafening boom forced Kakashi to raise his palms to his ears. The earth was misplaced by the explosion, making vision nigh on impossible; he couldn't locate any of his squad.

_It was happening again._

Another land mine went off, the force of it knocking him off his feet. He had to get up though; the mission needed completing, his team knew what to do. Rising to his feet, he headed north, towards Kannabi Bridge, as planned.

That's when he heard it. Rin's scream was the shrill falsetto to the cacophony of gunshots accompanied by bombs on bass. He faltered, turning momentarily...she was in danger. But, the bridge was the last remaining route into the Land of Fire. Not destroying it as soon as possible could be detrimental to their victory. He scolded himself for even hesitating; the mission came first.

_It was happening again and he was making the same mistakes._

He continued on cautiously, the dirty fog too thick to make his steps sure. He needed to get to a clearing; from there his route north would be simple. The rubble and the smog were clearing slightly, enough for him to pick up his pace. Before he could break into a run, he heard the shout.

"Kakashi!" He stopped in his tracks, spinning to face the person. The fog was slightly too thick to make out who it was, the commotion around them too loud to pinpoint the voice, but he recognised the Konoha Army uniform. "Where the hell are you going?”

"Kannabi Bridge, as planned. We have to get there before-"

"Fuck you Kakashi!" The soldier was moving towards him. "How can you act like you didn't hear Rin's scream, we have to go get her."

Kakashi had to look away. He could feel the guilt rippling at the edges of his psyche, but the memories of his father's dishonour strengthened his resolve. "Failing the mission is not an option."

"Letting your teammate die is not an option!" He was still looking away from the soldier when he felt hands fisting into his flak jacket. "We can't let her die!"

Looking down at the hands, he followed them up to an enraged face, upon which sat a deeply furrowed brow and a scar stretching across a tanned nose, just past his angrily flaring nostrils.

"Come on, let's go!" The hands at his chest moved, one of them grabbing onto his wrist, intent on dragging him back to the centre of the blast.

_Iruka?_

The remnants of guilt let him be dragged for a few moments before he got back to his senses. Or lost them completely…

He abruptly pulled his wrist away. "I can't go with you."

"What?!"

"The first rule of being a soldier is to put your mission first."

"Forget the rules! They're not as important as your comrades." His teammate gritted his teeth, but it was the fire in his chestnut eyes that showed his intense anger.

"You don't understand! You have no idea what happens to those who don't follow the rules; what people think of them."

"I do! And I still think your father was a hero."

Kakashi's eyes widened at those words. He froze as he remembered the disgusted looks his father used to receive, the not-so whispered words of detest. He remembered how he was ignored; shut out and forcibly removed from society. He remembered the dead look behind his father's eyes, the way he became detached from him, the way he'd lost his life long before he'd taken it.

"People may look down on those who break the rules Kakashi,  but those who abandon their comrades are scum. They're worse than scum."

_Obito's last words..._

The scorn behind those words shook Kakashi to his core and he felt as though a knife was being twisted into stomach as he watched the soldier turn and run towards the epicentre of the main blast. He didn't turn back and Kakashi made no effort to stop him.

_Why? Why didn't I listen? Why didn't I go?_

He ran on autopilot from then; the decades of dedicated army training making him a machine that wouldn't stop until his mission was complete. Or it would have done had he not ran into a small squadron of three coming from the west. The lower ranking soldiers were supposed to be behind Kakashi and his squad, acting as backup in case they were unable to complete the mission. What were they doing coming from the west?

Upon seeing their senior they stopped to salute. "L-Lieutenant General."

"What are you doing here? The mission required you to behind me and my team at all times."

Bowing their heads in apology, they took moments before one of them had the confidence to speak up. "W-we're sorry! We were 400 metres behind you as planned but we got stopped by two Iwa soldiers. They were a much higher rank than us and one of them managed to take Sayuri hostage and headed west. The two of us managed to defeat the remaining one and went after the guy who took her. They hadn't gone far; we found them and managed to take the guy down. We went right back to the plan as soon as we could. We're sorry but...we had to save her!"

Kakashi looked at the three of them. Rule breakers, risking the mission, letting their emotions get in the way of what they'd been assigned to do. Why then did he feel like _he_ was the lowest of vermin? Like, compared to these rookies, he was filth; not fit to be the dirt underneath their shoes, let alone their respected superior.

The soldiers looked to their Lieutenant General expecting a severe scolding. He had a reputation for being extremely strict about the rules. They'd be lucky if they weren't dishonourably discharged on the spot.

Kakashi proceeded to remove the bombs he'd intended to use on the bridge. He handed them over to the soldier that had spoken to him.

"Don't apologise. Take these and destroy Kannabi Bridge. You are now the primary squad. You should still have twenty minutes before Iwagakure forces approach. Go, now." With that he turned and left the three stunned soldiers to follow their orders.

He ran. He ran as fast as his feet could take him. The smoke had significantly dissipated and he spotted Rin's medical kit strewn amongst the rubble. He could see the signs of struggle; footprints and drag marks. He followed them, going at his full speed, entering a wooded area. He was deep into the forest when he heard the sounds of combat.

Slowing down and entering stealth mode he came up behind the battle to see his two teammates taking on five Iwa soldiers. They were outnumbered but not out-skilled, the battle was even. Silently, he came up behind one of them, slicing his throat quicker than anyone could blink. The soldier fell to the floor, revealing Kakashi to his teammates and the other Iwa soldiers.

"Kakashi! I knew you'd come," Rin beamed. He looked at Iruka who gave him a nod and an Uchiha smirk. He didn't have time to say anything before the other soldiers, spurred by the anger of watching their comrade killed, commenced the battle with renewed vigour. With Kakashi there though, there was no contest. They took two down in a matter of minutes.

It would have been fine. They would have been fine, but he didn't see it; the gun pointed at his back as he fought. He heard it though, followed by the blood-curdling, pained groan that would come to haunt him, as Rin intercepted the bullet.

It all happened so fast.

Iruka let out a loud cry, falling to Rin's side. The soldier who'd shot her came at his remaining comrade with all the intention of doing the same to him. Kakashi leapt to him, stabbing him in the gut before he could take his shot. He turned back in time to see the last remaining Iwa soldier doing the same to Iruka's back. Tackling the soldier, he pulled him and his blade away from his comrade. A slash to his left eye made him falter slightly, but he took care of the man quick enough.

Rin was flat on her back; all semblance of life completely drained. Iruka was on his knees, hunched over her body. Kakashi ran to them.

"Iruka...are you-"

A spluttered cough stopped his sentence. He knelt beside his friend, turning his shoulders to face him. His heart stopped as he saw the blood trickling from his lips. He looked at his back, seeing that the knife had penetrated deeper than he'd thought...much deeper.

Putting an arm around his back, he pulled his head to his lap and applied pressure to his wound. "Iruka, speak to me!"

He looked down intently at his comrade. The chocolate locks, loose from their binding, were splayed across his lap, red streaks running through them. The beautiful caramel skin was marred by the spilled blood of the enemy soldiers, some of it residing in the crevice of his scar. Parting his lips, he attempted to speak, but no words fell from his lips, only another blood-splattered cough.

Looking into those unfocused deep brown eyes, Kakashi felt the prickling behind his own. The lids began to close, the thick lashes fluttering over tanned cheeks.

"No! Iruka don't you dare give up now. Rin's medical kit wasn't far back; if we get to it you'll be okay till we contact the Medical Corps."

Slowly opening his eyes again, his teammate raised his hand slowly, coming up to cup Kakashi's cheek, the thumb ghosting the slash over his eye. That Uchiha-looking smirk was back on his blood covered lips, before his eyes closed once more.

"Iruka? I-Iruka wake up! Iruka...-"

**…**

"Iruka!" The whimpered cry escaped Kakashi's lips as he bolted upright from the pillow. He was covered in sweat, a few silver strands sticking to his forehead. His breathing was laboured; the only thing that could be heard in the quiet room, besides his heartbeat, which seemed to be attempting to break through his ribcage.

Looking over to his desk he saw the main character of his dreams. His head was atop his folded arms, papers splayed around him, his breath making them rustle.

Rubbing a shaking hand over his face, he lay back down on his pillow.

_'Just a dream.'_

Attempting to go back to sleep, he closed his eyes. Where he should have seen the blackness of the back of his eyelids, he saw Iruka; red-streaked hair spread out beneath his head and blood falling from his lips and smeared across his cheeks. Snapping his eyes open he looked at the bland ceiling.

His breathing hadn't normalised, nor had his heart-rate. Even with his eyes open he could see it; the consequence of his actions; his stubbornness, his stupidity.

_'If I had got there sooner, Iruka wouldn't have...Rin and Obito wouldn't have-'_

Stopping his train of thought before the twisting in his heart killed him, Kakashi got up from the bed. Heading to the door, he opened it quietly. He stopped in the doorway to look at the man who was sleeping contently on his desk. His eyes lingered making efforts not blink because every time he did, the idyllic image of Iruka sleeping on his desk was replaced by the harrowing vision of him dying in his arms.

Turning away, he headed to the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too sure if the dream sequence was a little confusing but it wouldn't have been realistic for Kakashi to dream of what happened exactly as it had happened because dreams don't work like that. Still, I needed a way to let you all know what happened on his last tour and, because Iruka's the only person he's been around lately, and his teammates deaths are always on his mind, I figured this would be the best way to go. Hope that was clear as you were all reading it!


	12. Chapter 12

At what sounded like the smashing of a glass, Iruka awoke with a start. Blinking rapidly he attempted to get up, noticing his slightly sore neck and stiff back; the consequences of sleeping mid-marking. Despite this, he still had on the smile he wore before he'd slept.

It was just how he'd imagined it; his reunion with Kakashi. They'd talked for hours...well, Iruka had talked and his ever-stoic sensei had listened intently, giving his input infrequently but smiling on occasion – and how those occasions had melted the young teacher. It was probably strange that he'd felt so utterly at ease, so comfortable and entertained in a conversation that was 98% his effort, but he'd loved every minute of it.

Pushing his intertwined hands up and above his head, he stretched his sore muscles, sighing as he noticed that the sun had long since set. _'I've well and truly overstayed my welcome'._

Shuffling his papers together, quietly so as not to wake his host, Iruka packed away his belongings. Turning to retrieve a wayward paper that had made its way to the floor, he gave a questioning look to the bed. The room was dark but he could tell that, apart from the tossed aside duvet, the bed was vacated.

Frowning, he scanned the room for any sign of the silver-haired man; it'd be rude to leave without seeing him first. Abandoning his half-organised belongings, he made his way to the darkened corridor. The door to the only other room he was allowed in was wide open. Pulling the light cord, his eyes once again scanned a room devoid of any sign of Kakashi.

Turning off the light, he was once again left in the shadows of the hallway. The lack of windows should have made it pitch black, but a sliver of the faintest light caught Iruka's attention. A flood of apprehension washed over every inch of the teacher, as he continued to look towards the weak light leaking through the slightly open door of one of the rooms he was banned from.

His mind was already supplying him with the worst possibilities of what could be behind that door, so he started to pad gingerly towards it, intent on proving his mind wrong. The image of a grey, frail Kakashi hunched over, frozen in the shower would forever be imprinted in his memory. Arriving at the door, he stopped to screw his eyes shut and shake the picture from his mind; this wasn't like that. It wouldn't be like that. Before they'd slept Kakashi had been fine, content...happy even. Yes, this wouldn't be like last time. Raising cautious knuckles, he drummed them slightly on the door.

Nothing.

A dreadful sensation of déjà vu filled the air as Iruka once again knocked on the door and heard no reply.

"Kakashi?" He wasn't expecting an answer and he wasn't graced with one. "I-I'm coming in Kakashi."

He placed his palm flat on the door, stopping only momentarily to hope that whatever was on the other side, Kakashi would be safe. The door creaked as he slowly pushed it as far as the hinges would allow. Knowing he was breaching prohibited territory, he didn't let his eyes settle on anything in the room. His eyes darted from corner to corner, searching for that mop of silver.

Nothing.

He controlled his eyes, taking in the room more thoroughly. He wished he hadn't. His eyes were met with bottle upon empty bottle and can upon crushed can. The stench of stale spilled alcohols assaulted his senses as he continued to look over what he now knew to be the kitchen. He could barely see the marble-topped surfaces past the empty whiskeys, vodkas, rums, sakes, gins, tequilas, wines, beers, ales and ciders. He felt like he was in a dingy backstreet bar with no bartenders or busboys to speak of.

_'What are you doing to yourself Kakashi?'_

Fear is what hit him. He was scared and he only remembered feeling this type of fear once before; when he'd heard Konoha was entering the Third Great Shinobi War. He was trying to steel himself; keep himself from running and hiding from this fear that had travelled to his fingers making them tremble. There was no point though; he knew it would follow him. He knew it would only grow the greater the distance between them.

"Kakashi." He whispered it to himself, to all the empty bottles, to the weak light behind the kitchen island. The teacher nearly jumped out of skin when he heard a sigh in reply. With wide brown eyes, he once again scanned the kitchen. His eyes settled back at the low, weak light from behind the bottle-laden, marble-topped island; it called to him.

Iruka's wary steps led him to the back of the island. He was met by a built-in, black fridge door, wide open, it's light and chill cascading into the back of the kitchen. What he focused on however, was the two pale feet he could see from the light of the fridge.

Rounding the fridge door he was presented with a sorry sight. Kakashi sat next to the open fridge, his legs bent at the knees and his head rested upon them. An empty sake bottle sat on the floor beside him, but it was the broken beer bottle in his left hand that caught the teacher's attention. Shards of glass lay by his hand and in the muted yellow light he could see blood pooled in the palm.

He didn't even think before he'd crumbled to his knees in front of his ex-sensei. He tried to push away the moisture in the periphery of his vision as he raised a jittering hand to the locks of soft silver. He played his hand through the hair, the strands running between his fingers. Saying nothing, he continued to do this until they moved of their accord as his ex-sensei raised his head. The onyx eye refused to meet his own watery brown ones and a silence passed between them as one refused to speak and the other didn't know what to say.

Fear was still the overriding emotion, but a range of others joined the mix; anger, helplessness, confusion. Iruka was so confused. Why would Kakashi do this to himself? Why would he put himself – his mind and his body – through such pain and danger?

"Why?" The whimpered question escaped Iruka's lips before he could stop it. A pale chin slowly raised and a partially hooded black iris regarded him. It took in the leaking chocolate eyes and the dampness of caramel cheeks before the chin dropped back to its place between two knees.

"Why Kakashi?" His voice was just as low and just as soft as before, but there was a determination in it they both could hear. He still wasn't answered though. His hand was poised to stroke those locks yet again, but as his fingers made contact, the head tilted away from their reach.

"Why are you here? You know I didn't want you in my kitchen." The slur behind each word made Iruka wince and the little flicker of anger he'd felt before spiked.

"Why are _you_ here?! You know you shouldn't be drinking!" His voice was at regular volume, but compared to the mumbles and mutters they'd been exchanging, it felt like a shout and Iruka immediately regretted it. A narrowed eye raised itself and the glare he received made the tanned man want to retreat.

"This is your fault."

Iruka blinked repeatedly, trying to analyse the statement and make sure he'd heard it correctly. "S-say again?"

"You...you were here, hanging around. All day you were here. Couldn't drink with you here. Wouldn't let me."

"For good reason Kakashi! Look at you!" He knew he was raising his voice again and he also knew it was not a good idea to argue with someone who probably wouldn't remember this in the morning, but his emotions had long since overridden his reason.

Kakashi closed his eye and let out a laboured sigh as he ran a clumsy hand over his face. "If I don't drink, I dream."

He looked and sounded so fragile, so lost. Iruka scooted closer, now sitting between Kakashi's raised legs. He wanted to extend some sort of comfort. If he was honest with himself, he still just wanted to wrap his arms around the man and shield him from anything and everything that would make him like this. He knew Kakashi though, receiving comfort from another, looking weak in front of another, was a cardinal sin. Iruka settled for a gentle hand on the man's knee, and when he saw no resistance, he proceeded to stroke it lightly. A drunken Kakashi was clearly not opposed to receiving comfort.

"W-what did you dream about Kakashi?"

A dark eye looked to him and then to the hand on his knee, making Iruka falter in his strokes, but only momentarily.

"You." That did make Iruka stop. It made him feel physically sick and the tears returned to his eyes as he thought of himself as the reason why Kakashi was so broken.

He struggled to keep his voice from cracking. "What happened? W-what did I do?"

"You died." Iruka froze, waiting for him to continue. "It happened again. It was all the same but I still failed. I couldn't save you like I couldn't save them."

"I don't...I don't understand Kakashi."

"You died and it was all my fault."

"But, I'm...I'm right here Kakashi. I'm not dead."

"You were. They are."

It was like an agonizing riddle that Iruka couldn't for the life of him work out. He couldn't hold the older man's pained gaze any longer, dropping his eyes as he thought of where to go from here. He once again caught sight of the broken shards of glass and gingerly raised Kakashi's hand to rest it in his lap.

"What did you do?"

"No more sake. Only beer and no bottle opener."

Iruka looked at his sensei incredulously as he put two and two together. "You idiot." He received a snort in reply as he removed the larger shards from his palm.

Standing up, he held a hand for Kakashi to take and he did so with only a brief sway. Iruka wrapped an arm around the taller man's waist to keep him upright, that feeling of déjà vu hitting yet again. He took slow, unbalanced steps towards the kitchen door but nearly tripped when Kakashi dropped his head to Iruka's shoulder, his hair tickling his neck. It can't have been a comfortable position for the taller man, but he seemed content and the tanned teacher was in no rush to retreat from the warm breaths being fanned onto his collar bone.

Reaching the bedroom, he sat his charge down on the bed, lamenting the loss of heat at his side. Heading to the bathroom, he quickly rummaged through cabinets before finding a first aid kit. He returned to see Kakashi sat where he left him. His head was hanging low as were his shoulders. His knees sat apart, one hand resting down on one knee, the other, injured one, resting palm up on the other knee.

Iruka walked to him, his feet stopping between Kakashi's, who raised his head to look him in the eyes. There was only one eye to assess, and it wasn't exactly at its clearest, but Iruka could swear he saw something in them; regret, disappointment, apology perhaps. He wasn't sure.

He took Kakashi's hand in his own, and gently removed the smaller shards of glass with the tweezers he's found in the bathroom. He gingerly cleaned the few cuts with antiseptic wipes before wrapping the hand in a firm bandage.

"You should sleep. You're going to feel like shit in the morning." Iruka said this but he made no move to drop Kakashi's palm from his hand.

Kakashi seemed to sway slightly, forward and backward and forward further yet, till his forehead lay carefully on Iruka's stomach.

To say the tanned man was flustered would be a terrible understatement. His breath had hitched and he could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Putting a hand on Kakashi's shoulder, he patted it softly, seeing how far he could extend his comfort. Running the hand from shoulder to neck, he played with the hair at the base. A drunken Kakashi was definitely not opposed to being comforted.

_'He would never allow this if he was sober.'_ The thought filled Iruka with immense guilt. Whether the man needed it or not, he knew Kakashi wouldn't want it. He felt like he was taking advantage of the pale man and the idea made him drop his hands and move far enough to break all contact between them.

"I-I think you should sleep now Kakashi." The older man looked at him with a hazy eye filled with confusion, but complied anyway. Clumsily, he climbed up the bed and into the covers. He lay on his stomach but kept a pointed gaze at Iruka.

"Stay," he commanded the younger man, ever so quietly. He almost didn't hear it, but if he had any doubts, Kakashi's sliding to the other side of the bed, told him enough.

He hesitated but even in his current state, the older man's stare left little room for argument. He climbed in, his body ramrod straight and his eyes fixed solely on the ceiling. Kakashi was still on his stomach and was yet to look away from the tanned man but Iruka loosened as he felt the man's breath against the side of his neck. Each exhale smelled like alcohol, but he quickly avoided that discomfort by breathing out of his mouth, indulging in the warm gusts of air without having to remember his companions inebriation.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Iruka awoke to the shrill sound of steadily increasing chime bells. It took him a few moments to realise his surroundings before he dove under his pillow, turning his alarm off before the man beside him woke up. The steady breaths fanning his ear and cheek told him that Kakashi was still asleep. He lingered in the bed longer than he needed to, enjoying the warmth of the body beside him and the breaths it was emitting. Looking at him, Iruka could see none of last night's distress on Kakashi's face. He appeared the vision of peace, pale skin taut against high cheekbones and a strong jaw slightly slack making his bottom lip part from his top.

He'd lost five minutes staring at the older man but was still reluctant to get up, removing the blanket on his side with the speed of a sloth. His shower was quick though - extremely so - as he was eager to leave the cubicle that reminded him so strongly of a broken Kakashi.

But those thoughts didn't leave him when he left the shower. Everything was Kakashi; not a single thought was free of the silver-haired man in the next room, and each one of them filled him with a sense of foreboding.

_'I need to get out of here'._

Iruka got dressed in double time, never so eager to get to class. He was all set to leave, books in tow as he had brought everything into the bathroom with him, yet as he stood in the corridor, he was suddenly not in such a rush.

Pulling out a piece of lined paper, he rested it on a raised thigh, writing a quick and untidy note. He looked over it and thought about adding a comment about what happened last night; the dream was still puzzling him. He decided not to though; if he was going to get Kakashi to open up, it would have to be through a surprise attack. Giving the man time to think of a reply would only generate forced answers and phony conversation.

He bent to the slide the note under the door, when another thought occurred to him. Scribbling the after-note, he pushed the paper through the bottom of the door and left.

**…**

13:08...that's what his digital clock was telling him as he lazily blinked the sleep out of his eye. His cracking headache was too much of a familiarity for him to fully register the pain so, despite it; he sat up in bed feeling at ease. He frowned noticing his position; on the right half of the bed as opposed to sprawled in the centre. He placed his palm on the left side, it was long-since cold but he somehow sensed the heat that had to have been there hours before.

His mind delivered memories from yesterday in drips and drabs; an old leaky tap reluctant to give all it had. The first to hit him was Iruka's laugh. It was like a melodious tune that he thought he'd forgotten, but as soon as he heard it, and heard it again and again as the younger man recounted tales of their childhood and the time in between, he'd recognised it. Though undeniably deeper and more mature, his chuckles and giggles carried the same resonance, the acoustics spreading warmth across his usually cold skin, the same way they had all those years ago.

He let his head fall back on his pillow, eyes closed as he reminisced the afternoon before, a small quirk playing on his lips remembering the amusing tidbits Iruka had offered. A grimace quickly replaced this though, as his second memory dripped into the forefront of his mind. It was hazy but he clawed at it trying to sharpen it. He should have let it go because now that he'd remembered he couldn't get the image out of his mind no matter how hard he tried...

Iruka with red-streaked hair spread out beneath his head and blood falling from his lips and smeared across his cheeks.

_'Dammit!'_ Kakashi cursed himself for not thinking ahead and buying more alcohol. The half bottle of sake and a lone back-of-the-fridge beer, a gulp-worth lost in the battle to get the lid off without a bottle opener, had been enough to clear his mind the night before but not enough to erase the dream completely.

Clenching his fist as he tried in earnest to think of anything else before he had chance to contemplate the meaning behind the dream, Kakashi unknowingly coaxed his third memory. The constriction of his injured palm had sent a shock through his fingers, forcing him to stare at the bandaged appendage. He could almost feel Iruka's fingers around his own as he'd gently wrapped the gashes. That reminder of the teacher's soft touches brought forth the memory of more gentle caresses. They were either feather-light or were being lessened by his still hazed consciousness.

Across a knee, over a shoulder, up the neck, through his hair…

An involuntary shiver ran down his spine as he coupled that memory with another one - an unforgettable one. The almost-predatory glint in Iruka's eye as he'd practically drooled over his half-naked body the day before. He was sober and nearly recovered from his hangover by then; there's no way he could have mistaken that look.

Pure, unadulterated lust.

He'd seen it time and time before, but...from Iruka?  _'Maybe it's just wishful thinking...'_

The soldier groaned, flipping over onto his stomach so he could bury his face in the pillow. And yet, he couldn't help but wonder, what if. What if his ex-student really did want him like that? Before the reunion the thought would have been laughable. Even when Kakashi was a child himself, Iruka always had an innocence about him that made him feel like he was treading on untouched snow when around him. The idea of those kinds of thoughts being had by the younger man - about him on top of that - was just ludicrous. But that look... Treading snow? More like running across hot coals.

He couldn't help but wonder again at last night's caresses. If he'd been sober enough to react what would he have done? Sinking his face deeper into his pillow, he groaned yet again. He was sounding like a damn virgin.

This was new though...this was Iruka. He actually had time to think about the situation. Every intimate experience of his life had taken place in the army. There was no time for this kind of contemplation; it was do or die, now or never, every single time. He'd be lucky if he ever even remembered them after all the missions, all the combat, all the bleeding was over. His previous partners were mostly nameless, faceless, figments of the past.

This was different though...this was Iruka.

Again he thought about what he would have done last night were he not so inebriated. Perhaps even, what he would do today. He cursed himself yet again for drinking an awkward amount of alcohol; not enough to erase the desired memory, too much to properly act on this situation with Iruka.

_'Wait'_. Kakashi rolled again, freeing his face from the pillow. He sat up, trying to jump on the train of thought that had just surged through his musings about Iruka and his possible attraction. _'If I hadn't been drunk last night, there would have been no hand-bandaging; there would have been no sly caresses – if that's even what they were. There's no way Iruka would act like that around me sober. No way in hell – regardless of how he was he looking at me yesterday.'_

Running a hand through his unruly silver mop, Kakashi ground his teeth as he berated himself for his foolishness. _'Idiot. To think I almost misinterpreted a friend's sympathy for genuine affection...fucking idiot.'_

Pushing aside his blankets, he aimed for the shower. He wasn't going to think on the matter much longer. A quick wash and he'd head to the corner store. Walking to his bedroom door, his foot slid along a paper. He gingerly bent to pick it up, seeing messy scrawls over the lines of the paper.

****_Kakashi,_  
_Gone to school, didn't want to wake you. I'm sure you need the sleep._  
_I'll be back in the evening, maybe 7pm. I'll bring some dinner too - I promise no ramen._  
_Iruka.  
_ _P.s. Please don't drink anymore today_

A growl rumbled through Kakashi's throat as he scrunched the paper in the palm of his fist before throwing the balled up note behind him.

Pity.

The letter screamed pity and the pale man felt frustration course through him at his previous thought that it could have been something else. He wasn't a child. He didn't need telling what he could and couldn't do. Not by anyone and certainly not by nosy teachers who had no idea how painful and callous his own mind could be when left unchecked.

He headed to the bathroom with renewed vigour; the corner shop across from his apartment his new mission. He was out the door in 15 minutes flat, cash in hand.

Perusing the alcohol aisle, Kakashi saw that the amaretto was discounted and reached for two bottles. He pretended not to notice the disappointed look of the cashier who saw him in here much too often. _'You think he'd appreciate the custom'._

It was too early to be drinking from the bottle so upon entering his apartment he headed to the kitchen for a glass. The sight stopped him dead in his tracks at the door. If it affected him so, he could only imagine how Iruka reacted. _'No wonder he felt sorry for me'._

He set the bag of amaretto on the floor and headed for the rarely-ventured cleaning cupboard in the corner of the kitchen. He piled bottle after bottle into heavy-duty black plastic bags. Out of sight, out of mind right? Cleaning was carried out with military precision with the hopes that this would be the case with Iruka.

Three and half hours, six garbage bags, three trips to the recycling bay, a thorough sweep up of stray shards of glass, an obscene number of paper towels and half a bottle of all-purpose kitchen cleaner later, Kakashi was finally done.

He looked over his work; the kitchen was immaculate. No alcoholic beverage was anywhere in sight, the stale whiff of it had long since dispersed, a fresh breeze entering the room from the rarely opened windows, the sunlight from outside also making an uncommon appearance in the kitchen. Kakashi was proud of his work; the first productive thing he'd done since filling the kitchen in the first place. No one would think anything was wrong looking at the room now - not that anything was - but he'd definitely be able to rid himself of the sickening sympathy he was being given by the teacher.

Scanning the room again, he looked on at the emptiness; the emptiness of the entire apartment. If Iruka didn't pity him or think anything was wrong he'd probably have no reason to stick around. Kakashi sighed at thought. He was old enough not to need someone hanging around, even for casual companionship, but he was also old enough to admit that just because he didn't need something, didn't mean he wouldn't yearn for it.

Kakashi, for the nth time that day, berated himself. There was no point in entertaining such thoughts. At least after today he could go back to the way of life he'd become accustomed to. Taking out one of the amaretto bottles he'd stored neatly in the kitchen, he placed it on the clear marble-topped counter beside a crystal lowball glass. Sitting at the stool, he looked at the amber liqueur, the light from the window bouncing off the rim of the glass. He'd already set beside it the copy of Icha Icha he was rereading, but he was still too preoccupied with the drink to start.

He frowned at his dithering. It wasn't that he didn't want to drink it; amaretto was one of his favourites and he hadn't had any in a while. But, for once, he didn't need it. His thoughts were uncharacteristically clear and he wasn't being weighed down by wayward memories. He foresaw the cracking headache, the soreness of his throat after the continuous purging of his stomach's contents. He knew Iruka would be disappointed.

And yet, his fingers had found their way around the glass and the edge of it was a hairsbreadth away from his lips. A single hint of the bitter-sweet almond aroma had him taking a deep inhale for more and, before he knew it the glass was empty and swiftly refilled.

**…**

How could he have thought leaving the house for a while would ease his mind? As Iruka looked upon the raucous class of eight year olds, he realised how incredibly wrong he'd been. Even here, every other thought swept back to Kakashi; what he was doing at that moment, whether he was feeling okay, whether he'd heeded the message and was not drinking.

When the end of the school day finally arrived, he could have broken out in songs of praise. The car ride to his apartment was quick, as was the collection of tomorrow's clothes and a re-pack of his overnight bag. Iruka stopped by a supermarket, picking up the things that had been on a shopping list he'd been compiling in between classes.

Getting out Kakashi's keys, he wasted no time turning the lock. He held down the door handle and pushed it forward, only to feel the hinges strain sharply at the strength of the thick silver door chain, stopping the door from spreading more than five inches from the frame.

_'The hell? What's the point giving me keys only to chain the door so I can't get in?'_

Iruka contemplated that thought before he frowned at himself. He hadn't exactly been given the keys, he'd taken them and assumed it would be fine.

Apparently not.

Proceeding with caution, he knocked on the door; sharp enough to show his determination to get in and not be shunned away, but not so sharp as to be disrespectful and rude. He accentuated his knock with a call-out of the man's name, but when he heard no reply he slumped forward with his forehead pressed against the door, dejected.

**…**

He knew chaining the door would be a good idea. With an almost imperceptibly shaky hand, he put the amaretto bottle back in the cupboard, behind the never-touched goods like an old can of pickled gherkin and a box of instant mashed potatoes. The glass was placed carefully in the sink, water splashed in it to remove the ring of golden-brown at the bottom. He was glad for his foresight to keep the windows open, the almond scent had mostly dissipated, the concentration now resembling previously-made food rather than strong liquor. His breath was the only thing that remained that held any evidence of the drinking but a quick swill and spit of milk would stop the bitter-sweet aroma, the one that's distinctly alcoholic, from escaping when he spoke.

Kakashi was sober enough to recognise that this kind of deception was not healthy, but he'd drank too much to care. Walking to the front door, careful to keep his steps uniform and his posture upright - he did learn something at the army - he quickly unlatched the chain and opened the door.

While he may be able to keep his soldier's posture and balance while tipsy, he was not receptive to surprise attacks from falling teachers. His slackened reaction time had him falling to the ground under the teacher's weight, unable to keep himself up, let alone the both of them.

His quick switch from vertical to horizontal had his inebriated mind dizzy and disorientated. The sense of vertigo didn't leave even after he'd reached the floor, but even through the haze, he could feel the warmth of a body atop him. Such comforting warmth.

**…**

Iruka, not expecting the door to be opened at all, let alone a couple minutes after knocking, was shocked to say the least. He still had his forehead pressed to the door when it opened and found himself unable to stop from falling forward as the object maintaining his balance was ripped away.

In his blind descent to the floor, Iruka had reached out for anything to break his fall. His eyes were shut in anticipation for the crash, but it was much less painful than he expected.

His forehead seemed to have found a new resting spot and he blinked his eyes into a soft cotton-like material, trying to regain his bearings. Raising his head, he realised it had been between a set of ribcages that he'd been rested on. Looking up he caught sight of a pale chin and it was only then that the gravity of the situation hit him; he'd just collided through a door, taking Kakashi with him on his plummet to the hallway carpet.

The chin remained upright as Kakashi continued to look at the ceiling. Besides the steady rise and fall of his chest that Iruka could feel through his school shirt, the man below him was motionless.

"K-Kakashi. I'm so, so sorry. A-are you okay...Kakashi?" But still Kakashi looked to the ceiling. Iruka was getting worried now; maybe he'd knocked the wind out of the man or maybe he'd knocked his head. Using his forearms to shimmy up to the man face, Iruka attempted to check on the older man.

His heart was beating at a rate he was trying to ignore and his palms were suddenly sweaty as he made his way up the pale man's body till his face was hovering above the other man's. Iruka examined his ex-sensei. His eyes were shut tight, a light sheen showing up on his forehead; perhaps signs of a fever. The thought worried Iruka and he continued to examine the man below him. Kakashi's lips were parted and his breaths seemed to be quickened; maybe he did bang his head.

"Kakashi, please say you're alright."

**…**

He wasn't sure whether it was the alcohol clouding up his senses or something else entirely, but having Iruka above him, floating over him in such nearness, was doing strange things to his insides. He could feel the slick evidence of perspiration appearing on his forehead and he found himself putting all together too much effort in keeping his breathing regulated.

It was claustrophobic. He had nowhere to go and the soldier inside him felt vulnerable; completely susceptible to attack. Why then did he feel so safe? Why did he feel warmer and more at ease than he could ever remember feeling before? He should have been wanting to remove himself from any situation that made him so weak, why then did he want nothing more than to stay where he was, or more importantly, for Iruka to stay where he was?

"Kakashi, please say you're alright."

He really didn't want to open his eyes, he wanted everything to stay the same in this precarious situation that he'd found himself in, but the desperation in Iruka's voice made him. Fluttering his lids apart he was met with the sight of the tanned man, his cheeks were slightly flushed and he had such a look of relief on his face that it almost hid the worry.

"Oh, thank God. I thought I'd taken you out completely. You okay?"

_'Am I okay?'_ "I'm not sure."

Kakashi could have groaned in utter disappointment and frustration as Iruka quickly scrambled off him, muttering endless apologies and offering to help him up. Just like that it was gone. The warmth, the safety, the comfort he'd felt while underneath the younger man; all ripped away as he continued to chatter incessantly (in what Kakashi could only assume was embarrassment) about nonsensical things concerning school days and grocery shops. His mind was completely detached as he tried to figure out what had just happened, but he could only come up with one conclusion. He wanted to be in that situation again.

"-your favourite right?" Iruka was looking at him expectantly and it was only then Kakashi realised how zoned out he must have been. So much for trying to appear normal.

"What?"

"Miso soup with eggplant. It's still your favourite right?" Kakashi felt an involuntary twitch of his lips upward. He couldn't deny that it touched a chord that the younger man had remembered after all these years.

"Yeah, yeah it is." Those twitching lips took the form of a small smile as he watched Iruka beam at him. He watched in confusion as the beam seemed to falter though. Iruka fidgeted slightly, looking away from Kakashi.

"What's wrong?"

"Umm, I didn't bring it ready-made, I brought all the ingredients with me"

"So?" Kakashi's brows knitted as he watched the man continue to fidget and scratch his scar in a nervous gesture.

"So...I need to use your kitchen."

The light bulb finally flashed for Kakashi. He could feel a small smirk creeping onto his features at the thought of Iruka seeing the room in its new state. He didn't want to be there when he saw it though; he wasn't particularly keen on talking about anything to do with the room's previous state.

"Go ahead, I'll join you there in a minute." He pretended not to notice the teacher's widening eyes as he strolled to his bedroom.

******  
**


	14. Chapter 14

Iruka watched as Kakashi continued down the corridor and disappeared into his room. If this was some kind of joke, he wasn't finding it funny. He continued to hover in front of the kitchen door, waiting, expecting almost, for Kakashi to come back out and tell him he couldn't really go in his kitchen. But he didn't.

With a shaky palm pressed on the kitchen door, just as it had been last night and with the same trepidation, he pushed it slightly, steeling himself for what was on the other side. It creaked and he winced, already imagining the many bottles and cans – all the evidence of Kakashi's self abuse.

But, like the scene of a crime, all the evidence had been collected and removed, the area returned to normality as if no offence had been committed there the night before. Letting out the baited breath he'd been holding when he'd entered the kitchen, Iruka spun slowly, taking in the sight completely. Not a single bottle, not a single can, not even a bottle top remained.

He wanted to say something. He was itching to talk about this, about everything, but it was blatantly obvious in the way that the older man had left him to make this discovery alone, that he didn't share the same conversational desires. Iruka would concede...for now.

Taking out the groceries and placing them on the marble-topped kitchen island that Kakashi had been cowering behind the day before, he began preparing the meal.

"Kakashi!" He called out for the older man, waiting a few minutes before his tall, lean body appeared in the kitchen doorway. Anyone who didn't know him would assume that he was the vision of calm, his hand in the pockets of his baggy grey jogging bottoms, but Iruka could tell otherwise. He could see that his hands were fisted in those pockets and his jaw stood stronger than usual; he was probably grinding his teeth. The older man was expecting confrontation; he was ready for it.

"Where do you keep your pots and I need a chopping board as well?" Iruka watched as all the tension visibly seeped out of the soldier's body until he was nonchalantly leaning against the door frame, nodding his head towards two areas of the room.

The teacher busied himself round the kitchen while Kakashi made himself comfortable, sitting on one of the silver kitchen stools, his back to the counter, one elbow draped lazily on top of it, the other hovering in the air as he held up a gaudy orange paperback book. Iruka quietly tutted at this. He hadn't come over to play the older man's cook, he'd be damned if Kakashi stayed silent the entire night.

"So… how was your day?" He momentarily paused the chopping of the eggplant to look at Kakashi. He didn't receive the same courtesy back as the pale face remained angled towards the pages of his book.

"Alright." Iruka rolled his eyes; this was going to be harder than he thought.

"So… what did you do all day?"

"Same old." Iruka huffed and put his knife down. He'd chop a finger out of frustration if he kept receiving two syllable answers. Time to change tactic.

"Well mine was stressful. Remind me again why I chose to become a teacher?" It was rhetorical and Iruka was all set to fill the silence with a long rant about his day when he heard an amused snort from Kakashi. He lost his train of thought, but immediately caught another.

"Oh yeah, you used to teach." The younger man, resuming his chopping, chuckled at the irony of himself being Kakashi's only real student. "Maybe you can help me. I have these two kids in one of my classes that are driving me up the wall! All they do is fight! I can put them on opposite sides of the class, where they can't even see or hear each other and, still, they somehow end up in a scrap on the floor. What should I do?"

He looked at the silver-haired man, well, he looked at the silver-hair, it's all he could really see behind that damn orange book. All food prep was halted as he continued to wait expectantly for the answer.

"Hn. Who usually starts it?"

"Well, Naruto. But it's not all his fault, Sasuke just knows how to push his buttons, of which he has many. He's a great kid really. Probably my favourite, but he has the attention span of a gnat and unless he's heavily bribed, usually with ramen, he doesn't get any work done."

"Sounds like you." Kakashi snorted from behind the pages, making Iruka gape; half at the insult, half at the playfulness in the older man's tone.

"Hey, I wasn't that bad!" The laughter in his voice overrode the reprimanding tone he was going for, so he picked up a chopped cube of eggplant and threw it at the silver mop for good measure.

Years of throwing chalk at the heads of sleeping students ensured his aim was pretty much perfect, and yet there was no vegetable in the older man's hair. If he'd blinked he'd have missed it as the arm that was draped on the counter sprang into action, capturing the rogue veggie inches away from his hair, in a totally fluid movement, seemingly exerting no effort whatsoever.

"Still got it." The thought escaped the teacher's lips in a whisper that held a level of admiration he hadn't used since the last time he'd watched Kakashi spar. Pulling his eyes from the pages they were glued to, Kakashi sent Iruka a smirk that had him averting his attention back to the meal before a heavy blush could develop on his tanned cheeks.

"So, what should I do about these kids? Detention is clearly not working and I don't think I can endure another hour of the awkward silence between them while they glare daggers at each other through black eyes.."

"Hmm… I don't know."

"Awh, come on. You taught for six years! That's more experience than I have. You must have some tricks of the trade you can pass on, and if Naruto's so much like me, you should definitely know how to deal with him."

Kakashi sniggered at that, remembering the way he used to use ramen as an incentive. "Unless you want to teach them how to actually do some damage to each other, I doubt I would be of any use."

"Oh they don't need any help in that department. I'm practically a part-time nurse with the amount of first-aid I have to do. It'd be impressive if it wasn't so disruptive to my class and their education."

"Hmmm...."

Iruka looked up from the fancy black ceramic cooktop he was trying to understand when he heard Kakashi's contemplative murmur. "Sup?"

"I was just thinking."

"About…" the teacher coaxed. Nine years and the older man's conversational skills had yet to develop.

"You could train them in detention. You'd be making use of their skill, they wouldn't do as much damage to each other, they'd be able to vent their frustration without disrupting your class and no more awkward detention silences."

Iruka blinked repeatedly, stunned by the many words coming out of the older man's mouth. He realised he still hadn't answered when Kakashi looked at him over the rim of his book with a raised brow. The cogs of thought were spinning and a brilliant idea had him throwing an equally brilliant grin at his ex-sensei.

"Anyone ever tell you you're a genius?" Kakashi only smirked in response. "So, 3 o'clock?"

His dark orb narrowed to almost the same squint as the scarred eye that Iruka was yet to see, his head taking on a leftward inclination out of confusion. "What?"

"My class, 3 o'clock, Friday. Don't be late."

"What?"

Looking up from his pot, it was his turn to raise his brow at the older man. Maybe he'd used up too many words in that last sentence. "That idea is genius. I hold detention on Friday, you can come train them then."

"I meant you should train them."

"I know, but why would I teach them when I have an actual expert at my disposal? You'd be a hundred times better than me anyway."

"Not really. You must have exceeded me by now."

There was a brief moment of tense silence as Iruka looked down into his pot, stirring monotonously as he thought of how to phrase his answer without bringing bitter memories into the conversation. "I'm still just a blue belt, so you're definitely the more qualified of the two of us."

He could feel Kakashi's eyes on him as he continued to stir. "You stopped training when I left?" The frown on his face could he heard in his voice.

"Yeah." He didn't feel like going into the details of how he nearly fell into a state of depression after the only constant presence in his young life fell off the face of the earth. "Please say you'll be there." He embellished his plea with puppy dog eyes he was hoping Kakashi still couldn't resist.

He watched as Kakashi returned his attention to his book and nodded with a defeated sigh. Smiling, he returned his own concentration to the meal. Between the cooking and the conversation he used to fill up the silent moments, he rarely had time to think. He didn't really want to though; he was enjoying this too much to want to ruin it by thinking.

Before he knew it, dinner was ready. He looked up to see Kakashi with his face still behind the orange paperback. Iruka wasn't sure what he was reading, or whether he was even reading because he was 'hmm-ing' in all the right places, asking the odd question, even sniggering a little at the more humorous anecdotes Iruka offered.

"Will you get me two bowls and a plate? This is ready." He turned the cooker off, and watched Kakashi languidly climb off his stool and reach into a cupboard, retrieving what was asked for. Iruka's eyes travelled to the loud orange cover of the book left on the counter. _'Icha Icha?'_ He hadn't seen it on any of the shelves in the city centre bookstore, or the ones in the school library. It must be a good book though, it had been glued to Kakashi's fingers since he entered the kitchen.

_'I am looking for a new novel to read.'_

"Hey Kakashi, is this book any good?" The older man turned to face him with two porcelain-white bowls and an amusedly raised eyebrow before a decidedly devious smirk appeared on his lips.

**…**

Maybe it was the amaretto still swimming in his senses or maybe it was the innocent curiosity in the way Iruka pointed at the Icha Icha on the counter. Whatever it was, Kakashi felt his dormant playful side begin to awaken as he thought of how to answer that question.

Placing the bowls on the kitchen table in the far right of the kitchen, he turned away from the teacher so he couldn't see the lecherous grin threatening to break his face.

"Why don't you read that page and decide for yourself?"

"Oh, okay." He could have laughed at the way Iruka cheerfully replied and reached for the book, but instead he proceeded to pull out the necessary cutlery and set the table; he wanted to see Iruka's genuine reaction. If he was to laugh aloud the younger man would go into the page with waiting scepticism, so Kakashi watched emotionlessly as he upturned the book on the kitchen counter and read from the start of the page.

He knew that page like the back of his hand, and not just because he hadn't turned it since he got into the kitchen. Icha Icha Stallion was the only book in the series that featured gay relationships. It wasn't the best in the series, not by a long shot, but it was one of his most-read copies, evidenced by the cracking in the spine of the book.

He watched as Iruka's eyes widened a fraction with each line he read, till his lids could stretch no further back. For a minute a sliver of anxiety travelled up Kakashi's spine as the look of shock remained pasted on the teacher's face. Only then had it occurred to him that Iruka may not take it well. At worst, he had been expecting the man to be horrified at the fact that he'd basically been reading porn through their entire conversation. At best, the erotic imagery would get him so hot and bothered, his libido would force him to pounce on Kakashi with the same ferocity his eyes had held that day in his corridor. _'As if!'_

But, what if he didn't take it well at all? What if he was disgusted? He was lucky as it was that the tanned man was still sticking around despite how far from grace he'd fallen. If this made Iruka uncomfortable he'd probably never come back?

These thoughts had Kakashi ready to pull the book from his fingers, before he caught sight of the most adorable tint of pink gracing those tanned cheeks. When a sound escaped from the younger man's throat, sounding suspiciously like he'd almost swallowed his own tongue, before he swiftly turned the page, Kakashi relaxed in the knowledge that he couldn't have been uncomfortable with the erotic man on man scene if he was still reading it.

He wasn't uncomfortable with it. So... he was comfortable with it. Iruka was comfortable reading an explicit scene of gay sex. Kakashi let this thought sink in for a moment before his amaretto-addled mind bravely concluded that his 'at best' scenario was looking quite realistic.

"So what do you think?" He couldn't keep in the low snigger that escaped as he watched Iruka, red faced as ever, snap the book shut and palm it with a thud back on the counter.

"It, uhh...it's interesting."

**…**

Iruka turned away from Kakashi in a flurry, wanting to hide his burning face and neck. _'Interesting? That's the understatement of the century.'_ He stirred his soup absentmindedly as he tried in vain to remove the images his mind had created while reading the scene.

The scene itself wasn't what had him so flustered. No self-respecting gay man got this worked up over reading a short scene where one guy is rimmed by another. That was not the issue. It wasn't particularly enthralling from a literary point of view either. It was written almost entirely in purple prose; he could have written better himself.

What had his hand shaking around the wooden spoon was that it was Kakashi's book. It was Kakashi who had suggested he read it! This meant one of two things. Either, the older man was no stranger to a bit of guy on guy loving, and he wanted Iruka to know this, or, he had turned into a prankster in the nine years he was away and was playing a cruel practical joke on him.

Both scenarios seemed dreadfully unrealistic to the teacher, so he continued to stir and push images of a pale man on all fours out of his head. Acting casual about whole situation would give him a fallback just in case it was a stupid prank.

With this in mind, the younger man poured the soup into the bowls and placed the onigiri he brought from home onto the single plate between them to share. Sitting opposite Kakashi, he watched as the man dug into his soup, waiting for a sign of approval. Raising his silver head from the plate, he broke his mask of nonchalance for a moment to give Iruka one of his rare, genuine smiles.

"This is good." Iruka returned the smile with one of his own, brighter ones. The blush had subsided and, with the first meal he'd had in seven hours, his hunger won over his libido in the battle over what should be at the forefront of his mind.

As dinner progressed the teacher wished he'd made less food or even food that was inedible, because they were eating. A while had passed and they were still just eating. Eating meant no talking. No talking meant Iruka was free to think and the only thing he could think about was the man across the table from him.

He'd loved today; the way they had acted around each other, the way he'd moved around the kitchen like he was at home, the way they had talked like it was the most natural thing and how they'd both been able to smile (or smirk) and laugh (or snigger) like nothing was the matter.

But something was! There was a big, alcoholic elephant in the room that Kakashi was ignoring as he pretended everything in life was absolutely peachy.

"What's wrong?" Iruka was pulled out of his musings by the impromptu question.

"Why do you ask?" He couldn't look Kakashi in the face as he played with the spoon around his half-full bowl.

"You haven't touched your food for the last fifteen minutes and you're fidgeting like you've got the worms. Whatever it is spit it out." Iruka had at least wanted to wait until the meal was over, but the furrow of Kakashi's brow and the annoyance in his voice had him thinking now or never.

**…**

He shouldn't have been so frustrated at the younger man. As he saw this morning, the state of the kitchen shocked even him, so he couldn't blame Iruka for being so affected. But, it had been so perfect before they had started eating. The way he had been cooking like he owned the kitchen, talking as if their friendship hadn't taken a nine-year lag and his laughter; so carefree, so effortless, as if he was here of his own will, as if he was actually enjoying the older man's company.

But, the way he was fidgeting, his eyes darting anywhere but him, the way he wasn't even eating his own food, which was delicious by the way, it was obvious; his sympathy could only stretch so far. Kakashi was no charity case. If Iruka was so uncomfortable in his presence, he'd rather have him leave.

"...Whatever it is spit it out."

The younger man held his hard gaze for the first time since they started eating. He was worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and twisting the spoon in his half-empty bowl between his thumb and forefinger. A loud laboured sigh was let out of his nostrils as he once again dropped his gaze to his soup.

"We can't keep pretending like nothing's wrong." It was said to his bowl, in a low murmur, but Kakashi caught it. He knew that's what they were doing, but he chose to take the defensive.

"Who says there's anything wrong?" He endured the incredulous look he received for that comment. He pretended to shake it off like water off a duck's back, even though it was aching to have Iruka look at him like he was a crack addict in denial.

"Kakashi, I know you. I know you don't like to look weak or like you need anyone's help, but you have an alcohol problem." Iruka's voice was still low, he was clearly trying to tread lightly. It didn't matter if he'd whispered; having his 'problem' laid out like that still felt like a stab in the back.

"Correction, Iruka. You _knew_ me." Kakashi kicked himself inside when he saw the tanned man flinch as if his statement had slapped him across the face. He didn't take it back though, even while he watched Iruka nibble at his lower lip with more ferocity and drop the eye-contact he'd been trying so hard to maintain.

"The majority of the time I've spent with you since you've been back, you've either been drunk or hung-over. I don't need to know you to know that points to a serious problem."

Kakashi sighed softly, as if this whole conversation was an unnecessary hassle, wasting precious time; precious drinking and Icha Icha time. "I like a drink sometimes. Big deal."

"It is a big deal, Kakashi! This isn't about you just liking a drink; everyone likes a drink from time to time. You...you drink like you need it." Those chocolate eyes were back on him, looking at him so intently, desperation seeping through the irises as it was seeping into his slightly raised voice.

"You're blowing this out of proportion."

"Am I? So, last night...that wasn't a big deal? You nearly slicing your palm open trying to get into a bottle of beer isn't a big deal?! Tell me again that I'm blowing this out of proportion!" That desperation was mixing in with frustration now, no longer a murmur falling from those lips but a harsh call.

Kakashi opened his mouth to answer, thinking of another quick retort to steer the teacher away from the uncomfortable topic of conversation, but he closed it again, not being able to come up with anything. There was no denying what had happened last night, he couldn't reply with a clever comeback.

"That was different."

"Tell me then. What happened last night? Before we had that nap we were fine...I-I thought you were fine. Why did you drink?" The silver-haired soldier was backed into a corner and Iruka wasn't let him escape without a solid answer to that question. He looked away from those intense chocolate eyes – when did they switch roles? How come he was the one suddenly unable to look the other in the eye?

Groaning he got up from the kitchen table, taking his bowl and cutlery to the sink. He'd almost forgot about all the alcohol he'd drank earlier, but the spinning in his head from the abrupt movement gave him a stern reminder.

With his back to the younger man, he answered. "I'm twenty-seven Iruka. If I want to drink I don't have to explain myself to you or anyone else."

"Stop trying to brush this off, Kakashi!" He could hear the chair scrape as Iruka rose. "What was it? What was so bad in your dream yesterday that made you try to drink yourself incoherent?" The mention of the dream made him drop the bowl that he'd been washing, the clang of the ceramic against the stainless steel sink echoing in the kitchen. He could only remember portions of the previous day; he definitely didn't remember mentioning the dream.

"You wouldn't understand." Gripping the sides of the sink, he let his spinning head drop as he cursed inwardly at the sound of defeat in his own voice. Slow, unsure steps pattered towards him, but stopped short somewhere not too far behind him.

"Then, explain it to me."

Where would he even start? – _'I drank last night because I had a dream where you took the place of the comrades I allowed to die on my last mission. You died, just like they did, because I wasn't a good enough soldier to save you. And, I constantly drink because their deaths are forever on my conscience and it's the only way I can get through my day without constantly thinking it should have been me instead'_ –Yeah right.

Instead, he sighed again and diverted the conversation elsewhere. "Why can't you just leave this alone?"

"I told you before," the patter of feet moved ever closer, till the shorter man was standing right behind him, his voice lowered to an almost shaky whisper. "I care about you, Kakashi. I care about you... so much it hurts. Seeing you like you were yesterday, and in the shower before, it...it hurts." Despite how close he was, the older man had to strain to hear the last part of that sentence. He heard it though; he heard the tremble in the voice and the breathless way Iruka sounded, as though he was trying to fight back torrents of tears.

Pale, slender fingers gripped even tighter to the steel of the sink as the younger man continued. "You can claim that I no longer know you, if you want, but you're as stubborn today as you were at eighteen and as you were at twelve. I'm not asking these questions because I'm being nosy and I'm not here because I feel sorry for or out of some kind of sympathy. I just...I-I don't think you understand how much you mean to me."

Kakashi couldn't help but scoff at that. He couldn't rein in the bitterness in the tone as he asked the question he didn't want to hear the answer to. "What could I possibly mean to you?"

**…**

Iruka worried his bottom lip as he tried to form an answer. He didn't want to lie, but how could he possible tell the truth? – _'You were the single most important person in my life for six years and when you left it broke my heart. The entire time you were gone you were never far from my thoughts and now you're back in my life I'm determined to keep you here.'_ – Yeah right.

With a heavy sigh he settled for a half-answer. "More than you'll ever know."

He watched as the slightly taller man turned to face him. The change in perspective made him realise how close they were to each other. Too close. But he couldn't move; Kakashi's gaze had him rooted to his spot. A calculating eye was regarding him, searching for the truth in his statement.

How could anyone hold such heat, such emotion, in a single pupil? He felt like he was under a microscope, but he wasn't going to look away. He would hold his eye for however long it took for Kakashi to know he was serious. Biting his lip, he waited for the scrutiny to be over.

**…**

_'More than you'll ever know? What kinda answer is that?'_ He turned around with the intention of demanding a better answer, but all the words rolled back down his throat at the way Iruka was looking at him.

He couldn't remember ever being so close to the younger man. He was so close he could see the hazel undertones in the chocolate pools that seemed to get deeper the longer he looked in them. _'Beautiful.'_ And yet, they seemed to be holding so much pain.

He thought back to what Iruka had been saying, about how much it hurt him when he saw Kakashi in his drunken state. He'd heard the hurt in his voice earlier, but seeing, as they say, is believing.

At this point there were few things in life that still mattered to him, few things that he wanted. But seeing the pain in those beautiful eyes he knew he wanted it gone. He wanted Iruka to be happy; his happiness mattered to him.

The realisation had him blinking out of his trance and only then did he realise that he'd been staring so intensely. Looking away altogether didn't sound too appealing though, so he took the time to analyse the younger man's face while he was at a distance he was sure he wouldn't achieve again.

The scar that had fascinated him when he was younger had lightened considerably since he'd last seen it. He took note of the random freckles dotted around the scar and on his cheeks; he'd never really noticed them before. He continued to look with growing enchantment as colour began to seep through the skin; a light strawberry peeking through the caramel. _'So beautiful.'_

His gaze was drawn lower but he furrowed his brow at what he saw. This had to be the eightieth time he'd seen Iruka biting his lip, and this time he seemed to be doing so with such brutality. The plump bottom lip peeked out in places where the top row of teeth couldn't attack. They were already a dark pink from all the abuse they'd received. That poor lip.

Kakashi felt guilty. If he didn't make Iruka so anxious and uncomfortable, that poor lip wouldn't have had to deal with all that maltreatment. He should probably help it out.

**…**

Iruka's eyes widened a fraction and he could feel the heat rising in his face. Something had changed. Kakashi was still looking at him, but it was no longer in the calculating way of someone who was searching for the truth in his words. This was a different look altogether.

All he could do was stand there as a new type of scrutiny took place; that dark eye seemingly regarding all his features. If the steady increase in heartbeat was any indication, this stare made him all the more nervous, and yet he was making no move to leave. He nibbled more on his lip and waited.

The action seemed to draw the man's attention as the eye zoned in on his lips. Iruka swallowed but it did nothing to ease the tension; this strangely magnificent tension that was building around them, surrounding them in an entirely too tight cocoon.

He was so enraptured by the inspection in Kakashi's eye he failed to notice the long fingers making their way to his face. He felt their warmth though, as four slightly calloused fingers cupped his cheek and a pale thumb rested on his chin. A shuddered breath escaped from his nostrils as he bit harder into the lip, the pressure keeping him grounded.

An annoyed twitched played between Kakashi's eyebrows before the thumb that had been delicately resting on a tanned chin, woke into action. Pulling, firmly yet gently, it pried the chin down, allowing the trapped lip to escape as the teeth scraped along it, reluctantly granting it freedom.

Iruka's breaths were coming out quicker now; his lungs fully aware that they had entered dangerous territory, even though his mind had temporarily shut down; floored by the sudden intimacy. He watched still as Kakashi continued his inspection of his lip, but couldn't help the flutter of his lids as he felt the pressure of a thumb against his tender crimson lip. The rough pad gave a delicate swipe from one end of the lip to the other, in a teasing touch that had the fluttering eyelids shutting completely as the younger man concentrated on nothing but the gentle sensation.

As suddenly as they had appeared, the fingers around his cheek began to pull away till only the tips remained at his skin. They would have left completely were it not for Iruka's own fingers wrapping around the older man's wrist. He wasn't entirely sure what had spurred the bold movement, but he'd made it and he was sticking with it. He allowed his lids to open again, cautiously, awaiting Kakashi's response. The single obsidian eye was once again sharpened on his own brown ones. There was no describing the temperature in that gaze and Iruka, try as he might, found himself unable to draw away. In fact, he was slowly being dragged in, that dark eye, capturing in him in some kind of trance that had him inching ever closer, the distance between them steadily reaching zero.

A warm heavy breath washed over his scar, not helping the heat he already felt there. Simultaneously moving closer and tilting his head back, he presented his lips at a better angle for the older man to take.

And take he did, as tentative as it was. The slightly thinner lips moved over his own with a fragility unheard of in a soldier of his calibre. He applied his own pressure, conveying through the connection that this was okay...all of this was okay. He felt the gesture returned with equal weight, their lips, together as one taking on a steady rhythm of movement against one another.

The wrist he'd been keeping in place moved more firmly back to his cheek leaving his hand to drop at his side, left to do nothing but enjoy the snaking of fingers into his chocolate tresses. The backseat approach wasn't his forte though, as he moved his hands from his side, confidently placing them on the hips of the man in front of him. His thumbs couldn't help but dance around the rim of the t-shirt, feeling the muscled v-line that made him want to hold him closer.

As high as he was flying at the the moment, Iruka couldn't help but want to get higher, want to get more. He parted his lips, indicating this desire to his partner, but as much he wanted it, no tongue entered the awaiting cavern. If the older man was teasing him, he was doing a damn good of it. Snaking his hands around the toned, broad back, he held the slim frame tighter, his hands fisting in the navy cotton, wordlessly asking for more.

When Kakashi parted his lips, Iruka could have moaned at the new depth. The graceful flow now a thing of a past as a hunger overcame them both, creating a delicious dance of lips and teeth.

Vaguely, the teacher could taste the savoury remnants of miso, but he wanted to get past it. He wanted to be engulfed completely by the very essence of Kakashi. Flicking his tongue into action, he made contact with the other, immediately feeling the grip in his hair grow tighter and a hand snake to the small of his back, pushing him, if possible, ever closer to his companion.

Spurred on by this reaction, Iruka, clutched tighter into the cotton and instinctively aligned his hips with the taller man, the thrilling friction pulling a groan from the older man's throat. The sound sent sparks to his already awakening member and his tongue dove further, no longer partaking in a dance, but starring in it's own solo.

He too, couldn't keep the moan at bay. Not when the hand at his back was pushing him into the other's groin so incessantly. Not when the hand at his neck was pulling him deeper, encouraging the wild sweeps of his untamed tongue. Not when he was finally deep enough to taste the sweet essence of Kakashi. The syrupy almond flavour surprised him, but he lapped it up, their lips still battling with each other.

His taste buds lingering so long in the other's mouth, he scrunched his nose at how strong the taste was getting. It was more bittersweet now, the tang distracting from the kiss.

And then it hit him.

Pulling away from the lips that had felt so perfect against his, he looked incredulously at Kakashi. Confusion was swimming in his eyes, both of them, the scarred of the two making it's first appearance to Iruka, as the momentary loss of inhibitions made Kakashi forget to keep it closed. The slither of rouge disappeared back behind the damaged lid, the black eye remaining giving a pointed look that said 'why'd you stop'.

"You've been drinking?" He knew the answer, he could still taste it, but hope was a crazy thing. The arms that had grasped so desperately at Kakashi's back fell limply to the side as the weight of situation dawned on Iruka.

Trembling breaths struggled to escape his lungs as he detached himself from the older man's hold and backed away with unsteady steps. He couldn't even hold his gaze as he thought about what he'd just done.

Turning, he headed for the door, only stopping to offer two more murmured words. "I'm sorry."

 


	15. Chapter 15

The bright flashes from the street lights that periodically illuminated the car through the windscreen, showed the obvious tension riddled in Iruka's body. His fingers were gripping into the steering wheel hard enough to make heavy indents in the complaining leather, but he barely noticed as his only goal was to get home. Even as he pulled into his parking spot, he contemplated going farther – as far as it would take for the distance between him and Kakashi to calm him down because, even as the miles between them grew, he was still as hot as he had been, wrapped in the other's arms in the kitchen. The poorly suppressed memory had the teacher dropping his head on the steering wheel, lifting it, and dropping it again, repeatedly.

He only slowed when a dull ache made itself known in his temples, as his body protested the abuse. Not that he'd listen to it. Every part of his body had betrayed his conscience back in that kitchen; telling him that everything that transpired was good and needed to be repeated. It had taken until he was well on to the freeway for his lower region to finally give up on its persistence to go back to Kakashi. It didn't care that the man had been drunk. It didn't care that the drink was probably the only thing that had influenced the bold turn of events. It didn't care that essentially taking advantage of an alcoholic was morally unacceptable. It didn't care that three minutes of lust on his part, and intoxication on Kakashi's part, may have ruined a friendship molded fifteen years ago.

Iruka cared. His conscience, tag-teaming with his inner puritan, cared a great deal. It kept reminding him of how immoral he was; how shameless it was that he, a supposed friend, the person who was supposedly trying to save Kakashi from his alcoholism, had used that very weakness to have his way with the older man. A more rational corner of his mind tried reasoning that that wasn't what happened at all, that the other man hadn't seemed that drunk, but it's voice was muffled by the much louder ones telling him what a bad person he was.

Upon entering his small home, he turned straight for the bedroom; staying awake would only prolong his torturous self-reprimanding. Burying his head under his pillow, he welcomed the sleep that cut through the condemning voice in his head.

**…**

Kakashi could only stare in complete dumbfoundment as Iruka backed away from him, as if in slow-motion. The beautiful brown eyes he'd only some moments before been admiring, had such a wide, haunted look in them; as if only just witnessing some great misdemeanor on their part. It was quiet, but he heard the muffled apology as the younger man left the room without a look back.

The kiss had knocked him off-balance and the slight bit of amaretto still in his system had him confused for a moment; wondering why a little bit of liquor had Iruka acting like he'd killed someone. The man was still a genius however, and it didn't take him long to put two and two together. He broke out of his libido-induced daze, set on setting the record straight. But, either, he was in a trance longer than he realised, or the younger man had wasted no time in leaving because he'd only just got out of the entrance lobby and into the car park, when he saw the brunette slamming the door of a small silver Mazda.

"Iruka! Iruka, I'm not…" The car peeled away, oblivious to Kakashi's calls, leaving the last word to fall on his ears alone."...Drunk."

He was left alone in the grey, concrete field, the evening chill cooling the heat that had built underneath his skin when Iruka had been with him. The asphalt, uncomfortably scratching at his bare feet, had him turning away from the dwindling sight of the car and into the warmth of his home. Except it wasn't warm. It was empty and cold, seemingly devoid of all signs of light and life beside his own. He wondered momentarily if this is how it always had been before Iruka had contaminated the house with his presence.

He walked into the kitchen only to turn right around when he caught sight of the scene where he and the younger man had briefly been one. Very briefly. Frustration coursed through the soldier at the thought that he was the reason why their encounter had been cut short.

For those few minutes, Kakashi had felt whole again; like bliss wasn't some distant dream; elusive and unattainable. No, it had been right there, within his grasp. He'd held it's hip and pulled it close, and it, in turn had him in a tight embrace as if never wanting to let go. And yet, here he was, alone and at a loss as to how that bliss had so quickly slipped through his fingers.

He'd get it back. He wasn't sure how yet, but he'd get it back. These were Kakashi's thoughts as he laid his head in bed, sleep trickling in as he prepared, dismissed and prepared anew, what he would say when he got a chance to speak to Iruka.

**…**

Kakashi was jolted awake by a nightmare, his panting breath and sweat-soaked sheets an indication of it's intensity. He couldn't remember much of it, but the bits and pieces he could piece together made his heart ache. His hands were still shaking as he fisted them into his sheets, trying to get a grip on reality, trying to get a grip on his sanity as images of the deceased played out in his mind's eye.

It wasnt even a conscious action anymore, more like a reflex; the almost entirely causal relationship between a nightmare and the resulting search for alcohol. As if in a trance, he carried out his detrimental routine in such a practised manner that it didn't even feel like his eyes were open during the time.

When he fully opened his eyes to what he was doing, he found himself at the kitchen counter, amaretto bottle in one hand, lowball glass in the other. The liquor line had decreased significantly since the last time he saw it, and if there was any doubt about where it had gone, the slight blur at the edge of his vision was a telltale sign. Running his tongue across his teeth, he assessed the essence in his mouth and felt queasy at the taste of the syrupy toxin invading his senses. He couldn't tell where he ended and the alcohol began; his own taste and the taste of the drink had combined into some unpalatable poison that had him swiftly turning to the sink and purging all he could.

His whole frame shook as he grabbed onto the sink's rim, unsure of whether to go lie down or stay just incase his stomach wasn't done protesting. It crossed his mind over and over again that that was what Iruka must have tasted, to a lesser extent obviously, but that was what he had offered to him. He kept this thought in mind as he stumbled away from the sink and past the amaretto bottle. The blur that had been at the edge of his vision was slowly creeping to the centre as he finally made his way to bed, knocked out moments later as the alcohol fulfilled it's end of this perturbing routine.

**…**

Iruka couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a bad day at work. There was that one time as a student teacher when he'd come in hungover, but even then it had only been a shrill ringing in his ears and queasy movements of his stomach that had ruined the day. This was something else. All slight misdemeanors annoyed him to no end, making him snap at the children he adored, only piling his guilt higher and higher. By break time, all his students knew that today was not a day to mess with their teacher. Well, most of them knew.

"Shut it, you bastard!" The bellow echoed through the empty hallways outside Iruka's classroom. He'd only just laid his head on the desk before him, thankful that he would have twenty minutes to rest. The shout behind his door grated on his nerves, but break had only just began, so he hoped the boys arguing on the other side would move swiftly along. He heard the monotone voice of the Uchiha's quiet reply. It was no doubt something degrading, if the sound of a body being pushed into the steel locker's was any indication.

Iruka contemplated letting the fight continue. As it was, he was struggling to lift his head from his makeshift arm pillow; a night of fitful sleep and repentance can do that to one's temperament. But even as he hoped for a little relaxation, the sounds of banging lockers and shouted insults had him rising from his desk, irritation his main motivator. The tangle of pale and tanned limbs in the hallway brought the teacher's mood across the border of irritation and into anger.

"Enough!" His bellow echoed through the empty corridor, bouncing off the lockers and stopping the fists in mid-air. Both boys looked upon the teacher and paled at the palpable rage rippling from him. They untangled themselves and rose warily.

"I've had enough of the both of you! Clearly an hour of detention after each of your fights is not enough of a deterrent, so how about ten."

"Ten hours?! But Iruka-sensei, it was all Sasuke's f–"

"Fifteen hours!" Naruto stayed wide eyed and spluttering at the severity of his usually forgiving teacher. Sasuke on the other hand was seething at the increase in detention time, but unlike his opponent, he wasn't one to openly scream his discontent, so settled for a murmured criticism.

"Fucking idiot."

"Twenty hours! Feel free to keep pushing it." His senses were already frayed and, where he would usually let the Uchiha's almost imperceptible comments go, today he was taking no prisoners. Both boys sighed and looked away. "Twenty hours it is, starting with two hours this Friday. There'll be a five hour increase if I see or hear of any more fights between the two of you." He pointed the boys in opposite directions and returned to his desk.

A heavy sigh escaped him as he returned to his seat. He knew he was going to regret that on Friday, especially now he'd have to go back to making them write lines. Thinking of the plan Kakashi had devised to train them during detention, he mentally kicked himself. His stupidity the night before had not only derailed relations with him and the older man, but also ruined a great opportunity for the boys.

**…**

It was two in the afternoon, but Kakashi only awoke because of the bile rising in his throat, forcing him to stumble to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, when his stomach was completely empty, he assessed his surroundings.

How had it come to this? He, a supposed genius, a military leader, was crouched around his toilet seat, looking no better than a homeless heroin addict. When had it got this bad? Why had it gotten this bad? A small voice in the back of his head was saying that failure was hereditary, but the last time he'd listened to that train of thought he'd ended up at this very spot in front of the toilet, hours later.

Lifting himself up on shaky legs, he walked to the bath and turned on the hot faucet. He walked back to the sink and pulled open the compartment behind the glass, grabbing the aspirin and swallowing two immediately. He proceeded to brush the teeth; vigorously and mercilessly trying to remove all remnants of impurity from his mouth.

Closing the mirror compartment, the soldier had a good look at himself. He pinched at the sallow skin of his cheeks then moved to the heavy bags under his eyes. He traced the scar that travelled down his left eye, and, in a very rare action, opened it to gaze at the blood-red iris that forever stood as a reminder of the only injury he'd acquired the day his friends had lost their lives. He shut his eyelid in an effort to shut down the memories, continuing in the assessment of his features. He gingerly cupped his chin, his fingers feeling out the prickly stubble sprouting from his usually smooth skin. He contemplated shaving, but slightly shaky hands told him it wasn't a good idea.

Turning to the bath, he hoped the clear liquid would purify him once again.

**...**

The rest of the teacher's day, while mind-numbingly morose, went without a hiccup. His remaining classes were well-behaved, he didn't hear a peep out of Naruto and Sasuke; all was calm. Inside however, tempests were brewing in Iruka's mind. He couldn't concentrate and his mind could only focus for short periods of time before straying back to memories of the night before.

When he'd awoke that morning, he realised that running had been a cowardly thing to do. Leaving so abruptly had probably left Kakashi feeling as uncertain as he had been. But what now? The question had been floating around the teacher all day, begging to be answered, and each time he tried, his suggestion would be shamefully insufficient.

Even though the thought made him bite his lip with uncertainty, he knew the right thing to do would be to go see him. If not to straighten things and apologise, then at least to see how he was. Besides the kiss, there was still the very worrying fact that the older man was still drinking regularly enough to be intoxicated. His prior commitment was to make sure he was staying sober, so going to see him seemed like a necessary task, be it a daunting one.

Driving home that evening, he reached the entrance of the freeway. First exit; Kakashi. Second exit; cowardice. He felt the pit of his yellow belly waver as he proceeded to drive past the first exit without a look back.

**…**

By the time Kakashi emerged from the bathroom, it was nearly five in the evening. He probably shouldn't have fallen asleep in the bathtub, but he couldn't deny that he felt much better for it. His hands had even returned to their military stability; the smooth nick-free skin of his freshly-shaven face; a testament to their precision.

After pulling on a standard pair of sweats and having a breakfast/dinner sandwich, Kakashi proceeded to carry out the plan he'd devised while in the bath. Operation: Get life back on track. Today's target: the living room.

He walked into the room knowing he would face a sight equally as disturbing as his kitchen had been. As he rummaged through the empty bottles and cans, throwing them into black plastic bags, he cleared out the room. Icha Icha books were returned to their rightful location on his bookcase and empty food wrappers and take-out boxes were thrown out.

It took a while, but a wipe down of all the sticky surfaces and a mopping of the dusty mahogany floorboards had the room looking good as new. The stuffy smell still remained, however, and the opened windows would probably not disperse it quick enough. Kakashi pulled back the curtains in front of his balcony doors, opening them to let in the cool evening breeze.

He stepped out to see the ¾ moon above him and the city below him, but, in the corner of his eye he caught sight of one his blankets. Must have left it here after one of his sleepless nights. Lifting it away to take back inside, he stopped in his tracks at what he saw; a half-bottle of whiskey and an unopened bottle of sake. He didn't think he had any alcohol left, beside the one-shot-worth of amaretto left in the kitchen.

Seeing the amaretto in the kitchen, he'd silently been glad that he had virtually no alcohol in the house. No matter what he dreamt about that night, there would be no night-cap to run to. But now…

No. He knew what he needed to do. Lifting the bottles before he could change his mind, he took them to the kitchen and proceeded to pour them down the sink. He watched as the amber and clear liquids swirled down the plughole. There was a slight moment of panic as the last drop left the last bottle, but he pushed it aside with one reminder of Iruka's face as he'd backed away from him yesterday.

The panic was gone, but apprehension in the soldier was well and truly alive. He flitted around his house unsure of what to do with himself. It was a depressing realisation to know that his life had come down to drinking, sleeping and reading Icha Icha. Without the alcohol and without Iruka here, he was left with nothing.

Going back to sleep crossed his mind, but he waved that thought away abruptly. If he was going to survive the night without alcohol, he'd have to stave off the nightmares as best he could. The only way he could think to do that was to stay awake. Heading to the living room, he set himself up for an all-nighter of snacks, Icha Icha and the occasional movie.

It was well past 4am by the time he finally succumbed to sleep.

**…**

It was 4.38 in the morning and Iruka still couldn't sleep. At most he would close his eyes for thirty minutes, but eventually he'd roll over, staring at the ceiling and kicking himself for not going to see Kakashi. He wondered for the nth time that night what the man had done with his day. Had he eaten? Had he slept alright? Any more nightmares? Was he reading more of that porn? Did he drink again?

 

The teacher groaned yet again. He should have been there! He should have gone after school, apologised for his wayward tongue and been there for Kakashi! But, it was no use saying this now. He'd just have to make up for it.

 

Swinging his legs out of bed, Iruka made his way to the kitchen. Food was always a great peace-offering. Why toss and turn in bed when he could be using the time productively? Looking through his fridge, he didn't really have anything to make a full meal out of, little meals maybe, but nothing big enough for a grown man.

A light-bulb went off in his head as he thought of the perfect thing to make; a bento box!

Two and a half hours later, he placed two very attractive-looking meals into the fridge. He'd only left himself an hour to sleep before he'd have to get up for work, but despite the guilt and the nerves that arose from the thought of seeing Kakashi again soon, there was a touch of excitement and longing as well.

The nerves only grew in the morning, but so did that excitement and, as he left for school, he could already tell he would have a better day. Granted, the actual memory of the kiss and the idea of explaining himself to Kakashi made him want to run, but he felt considerably lighter knowing he would see him soon.

**…**

It was early afternoon when Kakashi woke up on the sofa, the television still speaking to itself in the background. He barely registered the images on the screen though, as the images he'd seen in his nightmare continued to repeat themselves. He could still hear it now over the din of the 1pm news; Obito's voice, so frustrated and disappointed.

_'We can't let her die!'_

_'Forget the rules! They're not as important as your comrades.'_

_'People may look down on those who break the rules, but those who abandon their comrades are scum. They're worse than scum.'_

He hadn't listened to Obito's last words when he should have and now he couldn't block them out no matter how hard he tried. The words haunted him, taunting him for his failure. The fatal failure that led to the deaths of two of his most important people.

Kakashi bolted from the sofa and began to pace around his living room. He need a distraction, something, anything to stop him thinking of that night. He walked over to his balcony, opening the double doors and welcoming the bustling sounds of the city below. But even then, the sounds of traffic and movement outside did nothing to stop the battle cries he replayed inside.

Searching for a distraction in the kitchen, he started washing the dishes, but even then, his friend's lives felt like such a heavy burden on his shoulders, the simple task of rinsing a plate was too much. He sank to the floor, his back against the kitchen cabinets and his head between his hands.

This was his punishment; to be forever haunted by Obito's voice, to be forever haunted by his past mistakes. He withstood the internal torture for a while longer, but it was difficult when he knew exactly what he needed for it to stop. Granted, it would only be temporary and he'd feel like death when he woke up, but anything was better than this.

He got up from the floor, determined to find his keys and go to the corner shop. However, as he made his way out of the kitchen, he caught sight of the amaretto, whiskey and sake bottles in the recycling bin.

An internal tug-of-war commenced inside the soldier; one side committed to the promise he made to himself the night before, the other preoccupied only with his current state of distress. It took all of his willpower to edge away from the front door and towards his bedroom. But even there, he was fidgety, unrested, constantly looking towards the door in the knowledge that relief was only across the road.

He needed a distraction.

No, he needed Iruka. He'd spent whole days in the man's company and managed not to drink. Yes, he needed Iruka.

Making up his mind, he retrieved the mobile phone he'd been neglecting. Only then did he realise it was only 2pm. Iruka would still be in class, only an emergency would make him leave and he didn't want to worry the teacher to that extent. Even as he contemplated his next move, he could see the bodies of Rin and Obito in the back of his mind, the horror still playing out in his head.

The thought of sending Iruka a text crossed his mind; if he couldn't be here in person perhaps mobile correspondence would do the trick. As he unlocked his phone though, he was bombarded by missed calls and texts he'd received over the past few days, all from one person: Gai.

Kakashi counted his blessing as he rang his friend, realising that all along he'd had the perfect distraction on standby.

**…**

It was just after six in the evening when Iruka pulled his silver Mazda into a parking spot in Kakashi's apartment complex. He jumped out of the car, bento boxes in hand, as soon as the engine was shut off – he didn't want to waste any more time thinking, his nerves were frayed as it was. He stood in the elevator, apprehension rising the higher up the building he went, until the ding signified his arrival. Walking out of the doors,he stood there momentarily before beginning a lethargic walk down the hall towards Kakashi's door.

The last thing he expected to see though, was a laughing man with a jet black bowl cut and sturdy eyebrows, clad in a green tracksuit, to appear out of Kakashi's apartment. He stood frozen mid-corridor as he watched the man bellow something that sounded like 'back soon', before closing the door behind him. The teacher knew he shouldn't have been staring, he told his younger children constantly how impolite it was, yet the absurdity of the situation rendered him immovable, until the mysterious man caught his attention.

"Can I help you, young man?" To say he'd been staring the man down, he sounded surprisingly chipper, looking at Iruka with a slightly tilted head and genuine curiosity.

"Uh...I-I had just come to see Kakashi."

"Hmm. He didn't tell me he was expecting a guest." The bushy hair above his eyelids furrowed into a confused line. This is not how the younger man had envisioned this visit.

"N-no he's not expecting me. My names Iruka, I've been-"

"Iruka?!" One minute he's trying to explain his way into Kakashi's home, the next, Iruka is being swept into a green bear-hug by the cheerful stranger, his bag of bento at arm's length so as not to be squished.

"It's great to finally meet you. I'm Gai. I've heard a lot about you and your youthful persistence in helping my friend." The younger man received a knowing wink that had him feeling queasy and overwhelmed with the whole situation. "I was just about to pop out for some food, go ahead, I'll bring enough for the three us, we'll have-"

"No! Here." And with that Iruka had bounded back to the elevator. As he descended to the ground floor he couldn't pinpoint what exactly had made him so nervous as to run, but he made no move to return to Kakashi's floor once he arrived in the entrance lobby.

**…**

Kakashi heard his door opening and closing only a few minutes after Gai had left."Did you forget your keys?"

"Nope, I have dinner right here." The silver-haired man looked up from his Icha Icha to see his friend carrying a plastic bag with two boxes inside. He knew he could get absorbed in his book sometimes, but there was no way he could have been that quick.

"I bumped into Iruka in the corridor." Kakashi nearly dropped his book. He looked at Gai, waiting for him to continue. "I told him to stay but he just gave me the food and left."

"He was here?"

"Yep, you just missed him, he seemed in quite the hurry to leave but I could sense the youthful vigour in the way-"

The soldier let his friend's rambling fade into the background as he thought about Iruka. He had been itching to call and invite him over as soon as school finished, but Gai was a persistent guest. A perfect distraction from the turmoil in his mind, yes, but the entire time he'd been thinking about the teacher.

Two days away from the Iruka's presence felt like fourty-eight hours too long and he was going to rectify that tomorrow.


	16. Chapter 16

It was just past midnight; nearly six hours since he'd left Kakashi's, and Iruka was still at a loss. It had taken him this long to decide that he wanted to text the older man but even now, he tapped his fingers against the screen of his phone, hoping the visual of the keyboard would help him form the words he needed to send.

_Kakashi, we need to ta-._

_Hey, wanted to come over tonight but you had compa-._

_I'm sorry about Wednes-._

_Hi Kakashi, I really want to come over tomorr-._

The teacher groaned at his screen, pushing the phone away and glaring at it for it's utter lack of support. There was so much he needed to say but none of the words seemed right. He wanted to apologise, for the kiss, his running away and his absence since. But, with the kiss, he didn't know whether he was actually sorry, or whether he was just sorry it wasn't a sober affair. Well...he did know but the answer only stacked on the guilt.

He was more sorry for running away like he had. He knew it was ill-considered and immature, but could he honestly say that he wouldn't do the same thing now? This is Kakashi, his sensei, his friend since the age of eight. Alcoholism aside, the whole concept seemed absurd. If the situation were repeated he couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't run again. And his absence; out of all things, that's what he felt the worst about. What kind of person would leave their friend in their time of need? No, friend was the wrong noun. Kakashi was so much more to him than that, which only made his recent cowardice all the more reprehensible.

With this thought in mind he composed a text hoping it would say what needed to be said.

**…**

Kakashi looked at Gai's sleeping form on the sofa opposite him. The both of them were well-fed, and a day and evening filled with the other's incessant chattering had tired them both out. Unlike his friend though, he was holding out, trying at all costs to stop sleep, trying at all costs to stay out of his subconscious.

His eyelids were feeling heavy and the words on the page of his trusty orange book were beginning to blend into one another, forming indecipherable lines that his tired mind could not decode. Just as he was at the very edge of consciousness, the phone in his pocket sprung to life with two vibrations. Clearing the sleep out of his eyes, he blinked repeatedly at the screen, until the words came into focus.

**Hey Kakashi. Your friend probably told you I dropped by, I'd figured you might want something to eat but I didn't know you had company. You better have enjoyed the bento, it took me ages! In truth, it was made out of guilt. I'm really sorry about what happened on Wednesday, and I'm sorry I left like I did. I wanted to see you today because, well, I wanted to see how you were doing and, if I'm honest I missed your company. Can I come over tomorrow? I'll even bring some more apology food! x**

Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind as Kakashi read and re-read the text from Iruka. He'd been tossing an idea round in his head earlier that day, and the surprise bento made him more willing to execute the plan. But, this text solidified it.

Completely awake, Kakashi set about making preparations for the day ahead.

**…**

As Iruka shut his phone alarm off, he rubbed the tiredness from his eyes and languidly stretched his limbs, before his body snapped to attention and he scrambled for his phone again.

No new messages.

When he'd stayed awake until 1am, he knew it was silly to expect a reply so late, but he'd been hoping to wake up to a reply. It was still only 7.30 in the morning, but one can only hope.

It was 2pm before Iruka gave up on receiving a reply. He guessed he shouldn't have been so disappointed, he was the one in the wrong after all, but that didn't stop it hurting any less. What he was most worried about was the possibility that Kakashi wouldn't forgive him at all. The thought depressed the teacher at a level comparable to when his sensei had left, except this time it would be of his own doing.

**…**

He was ten minutes late, but Kakashi was pleased with his arrival time. He turned off his car engine and grabbed the duffel bag from the passenger seat as he got out and locked the door. He'd really have to thank Gai for all his assistance. Not only had he lessened the blow of his morning's nightmare-induced trauma, he'd also given him the equipment he needed for today.

Walking down the brightly coloured corridor, he mused that it looked better during the day. The plethora of purples, oranges, greens and blues were perfectly suited to the pint sized people it held. Kakashi, on the other hand, stuck out like a sore thumb; being a twenty-seven year old with gravity-defying silver hair and one eye open can do that.

After getting himself a visitor's badge, he walked to the classroom. It was funny how things had changed since the last time he was here. The small glass panelling in the door gave no sign as to where Iruka was, but he could see two boys at opposite ends of the front row. Giving two sharp knocks, he turned the handle and walked in.

It was hard not to laugh at the look of complete confusion on the tanned and pale faces that swivelled, away from the lines they were writing, to assess him. Kakashi gave an eye-squinting smile, raising his hand as a gesture of greeting. With no words exchanged he walked to the front of the class, spotting the picture of Iruka and his class that had fuelled the recent turn of events. Turning away from the photo, he sat on the edge of the desk, facing the two bewildered boys, but not before catching sight of the _'I will not fight with Naruto/Sasuke'_ , written on the chalkboard at the front.

"Uh, I think you're in the wrong place, mister," the blonde one said. "Hn," the raven agreed.

"Maa, I'm in the right place," another eye-squinting smile was thrown at the kids, who just stared at him in perplexity.

It was only a few minutes before the door started opening again.

"You should have at least two sides of lines by n-." The words words stuck in Iruka's throat as he looked at who was at the front of the class. "K-Kakashi? W-what are you-?"

"You forgot already?" The amusement in his voice was audible to anyone listening. The two boys exchanged glances between each other and the grown-ups in the room.

"Iruka-sensei, how do you know this guy? (He's kind of weird)." Naruto's failed attempt at whispering had Sasuke rolling his eyes, Kakashi raising an eyebrow and Iruka blushing while narrowing his eyes at the blonde and his audacity.

"Naruto, Sasuke, this is Kakashi...sensei. He's...was my...my karate teacher and he's here for-to-"

"To teach the two of you karate. Hopefully it'll be a better way to address the aggression the two of you seem to have against each other, seeing as detention doesn't seem to work." The silver-haired man cut in to Iruka's awkward introduction. "It's already 3.15 so we should probably get started. I brought a pair of children's karate gi, hopefully they'll be a suitable fit."

Pulling out two uniforms, he handed them out to the two boys, whose faces still read utter confusion, but the excitement was evident in how they wasted no time in grabbing them and heading out to the changing rooms. Only the elders remained in the classroom, them and the palpable unease that surrounded them.

"I-I didn't think you'd come."

"I said I would."

"But-"

"But nothing."

Iruka contemplated how to answer that. There was so much that needed to be said, and yet, his tongue and brain were having difficulties conveying that to the man before him. Of all things, one thing needed to be said above all and, after parting his lips and closing them again a few times, he was able to get his words out.

"Kakashi, I-I'm really sor-"

"Here." The aforementioned man interrupted the obvious attempt at an apology, handing over a white bundle of cotton held together by an electric-blue sash at the the centre. Of all things he didn't want to hear, sorry was at the top of the list. If it was sorry for not coming to see him, he didn't want to hear it. He wasn't an invalid who needed to be visited everyday without fail. If it was sorry for the kiss, he definitely didn't want to hear it.

"Why do I need one?"

"Two teachers are better than one. Plus, I think our sparring rematch is about nine years overdue."

"Sparring?! We can't spar! I haven't fought in years."

"It's like riding a bike, 'Ruka."

The teacher's retort was interrupted by the entrance of their students, kitted in their karate gi. Naruto was positively bouncing with enthusiasm, while Sasuke's excitement was only seen in the the brightness of his eyes and the straightness of his back.

The adults' conversation was paused as they moved to the gym hall. It didn't have any foam mats – the linoleum flooring would a killer for anyone thrown down – but it was sufficient for the basics they were covering today. They took it in turns using the changing room, before the four of them were suited up and ready to go.

**…**

Iruka couldn't help but stare at his ex-sensei. This, this strong, assertive Kakashi is the Kakashi he knew. He watched from the sidelines as the older man gave instruction on proper stance. He wasn't ignorant of the still slightly-darker shade underneath the man's eyes, but the sheen seemed to be back in the silver hair he always admired. Cleanly shaven, his angled jaw was strong, but the delicacy in his features could not be ignored.

"-onstrate punching and blocking?" The brunette took too long to get back to his senses, missing the end of Kakashi's question.

"Huh."

A knowing smirk played on the pale man's lips, inciting a dusting of red upon tanned cheeks. "We're going to move on from stances. The boys seem to have the shizentai-dachi, zenkutsu-dachi and nekoashi-dachi stances down, there's still a few issues with balance but they'll be rectified once we start practising proper moves. So, will you help me demonstrate punching and blocking?"

With a nod, he moved to face Kakashi. The more experienced of the two immediately took the defensive. The nostalgia of the situation had Iruka momentarily frozen before a raised silver eyebrow spurred him into motion.

They went through the straight-punch, uppercut, knife-hand, spear-hand, elbow-strike and backfist. Each time, Kakashi and Iruka would demonstrate, as defensive and offensive respectively, giving the boys time to see the technique and then the chance to try and perfect it on each other. This went on for an unknown time, before a cleaner came into the gym, breaking the concentration of the four. The sight of the janitor had Iruka looking to the clock in the centre of the third wall of the gym.

"5.35! You guys should have been on your way home half an hour ago." His three associates looked similarly surprised at the swift passage of time. "Go get changed boys. Have a good weekend!" The blonde and black haired boys walked toward the changing rooms, Naruto's arms gesticulating wildly as he recounted their training to a much calmer Sasuke who merely noded as they left the gym but, in his very acquiescence to the blonde's ramblings, which he'd usually have cut off long before now, showed his mirroring enthusiasm.

Iruka turned back to face Kakashi. They were left alone indefinitely and the realisation brought the uneasy atmosphere back with a vengeance.

"Uh...we should probably get changed and go too."

"You still owe me a spar."

"What? The boys aren't even here to watch."

"It's not for their benefit."

"B-but…there aren't any mats here."

"I'll be gentle." The three words, combined with a slight play on those silver eyebrows and his pink lips had Iruka's cheeks feeling slightly warmer and all other counter-arguments vanished.

The two men faced one another, both in the ready stance. Their eyes were steadily assessing their opponent. It had almost been a decade but they may as well have been in Sarutobi-sensei's dojo; the familiarity of the situation was jarring. Like back then, Kakashi made no move to attack. Without fail he always gave Iruka the first move.

With a few deep breaths, the blue-belt got serious. More than anything, when he was younger, he loved proving to Kakashi that he was learning, that he was capable of everything he threw at him. He lived for seeing how impressed he'd be when he managed to land a successful hit or when he pushed Kakashi into a having to throw an unexpected block or, even better, a retreat.

His signature start when sparring others would always be a back trust kick. Very rarely would anyone very start with a kick, especially one that momentarily had you facing away from your opponent. Kakashi had always said he was quick and nimble enough to return to his fighting stance before the average challenger had recovered their balance. But, his sensei knew that move like the back of his hand. A fakeout was called for.

Iruka threw a straight-punch – it was by no means one with speed or power either. His competitor could have blocked it with his other eye closed. Following their previous training, the brunette threw an uppercut followed by a knife-hand punch. Predictably, the next beginners' punch followed; a spear-hand.

The young teacher could have laughed at the furrowed silver brows on Kakashi's face. It looked like genuine worry; worry that nine-years of no sparring had dropped his favourite student back to the yellow-belt he'd given him at eight. Iruka continued with the beginner punches, throwing a quick elbow-strike. He smirked inwardly as he saw that his opponent had been poised and ready to block the punch before it was obvious.

Kakashi's left side was unguarded, his right hand ready to take the backfist he was expecting. Iruka moved as though to do just that, but then pivoted on his front font, turned, then kicked back with his right foot.

The movement was swift, much faster than it had been at fourteen, the last time Kakashi saw it, and with much more power behind it. His kick was dead-on target, and the force pushed the older man half a meter across the linoleum floor. The speed had left him not time to counter, only a few seconds to raise his hands as a block, his forearms taking the brunt of the kick.

The wide-eyed look of surprise did make Iruka laugh.

"You didn't think I'd forgotten everything you taught me, did you?"

"Hm." The glint behind that obsidian eye marked the beginning of the real sparring match.

The ready stance was once again adopted, this time with the both of them on their toes. Iruka threw an easy-deflected knife-hand strike, the side of his straight hand hitting Kakashi in the forearm. The latter stepped away, coming back with a side-trust kick that caught the brunette in the left. Iruka jumped to the left, throwing the same back-trust kick he had before, which was blocked in the same way. Before the silver challenger got time to counter, though, the younger man threw a round kick on the same leg.

Only Kakashi's black-belt finesse would have been able to catch Iruka's foot the way he did. It was set on a path directly to the left side of his neck before he caught it in his left grip, pulling swiftly so his hold went from the ankle to the knee.

The blue-belt could remember his sensei using this same type of counter before, it knocked the opponent off-balance, the next move usually being a successful flip of the person to the ground. But no flip came. Kakashi continued to hold Iruka close by the knee, almost as if to pull Iruka's leg around his waist, neither of them making any move to withdraw

A short distance separated them but the heavy breathing, on both their parts, and their bodies, already heated from the exertion of the exercise, made them both hot. The heat, the familiar heat that had enveloped them in the kitchen a few days ago, was back in full-force, but this time it neither confused them or caught them off-guard.

With a slight tug towards Iruka's thigh, Kakashi pulled the man closer. He paused, waiting to see if there was going to be any resistance, but the bobbing of Iruka's Adam's Apple and slight lowering of lids as hazel eyes became obscured behind a glaze of lust, gave him the green light.

The hand not at Iruka's thigh went for his neck, pulling the tanned man closer, their lips colliding with a hunger not unlike that of shipwreck survivors faced with their first meal. The softness of their previous kiss was forgotten as their lips parted upon contact. The unity of their tongues had Iruka fisting fingers into Kakashi's karate gi, pulling their bodies ever closer.

The grip at Iruka's knee tightened into the cotton fabric, running down his thigh until the fingertips grazed at the junction of thigh and backside, eliciting a shiver down a tanned spine and a low moan. Emboldened by the reaction, Kakashi ran his thigh-free hand to Iruka's waist, before lowering both hands to the teachers behind and pulling him in further, their developing erections grinding against each other. The fiery friction pulled a groan from the pale man's lips, while the tanned man let out a moan that ricocheted off the gym windows, the delicious sound making Kakashi grind harder.

A loud crash and deep gasp had the two pulling apart with lightening speed. The both of them turned to see a very shocked and very red cleaning lady, her mop seemingly having slipped from her grip at the sight of the debauchery that had been taking place behind her. A moment of silence fell upon the gym, as neither party knew how to proceed. Iruka was the first to snap out of it, grabbing Kakashi's wrist and dragging him out of the gym with a hurried apology to the appalled custodian.

The teacher only stopped leading the way once they were safely behind the doors of the changing rooms. Their lungs were still constricted, their breaths coming out in shallow gasps and the blush on both their cheeks was unmistakable. A wide pair of chocolate eyes locked onto an equally wide coal-coloured eye before the both of them shared a chuckle which developed to full-scale laughter at the absurdity of the whole situation.

Kakashi was first to stop laughing long enough to speak. "Well, I think we've shocked enough old ladies today. We should probably go."

"Easy for you to say, you don't see her every Tuesday when she cleans your class." The two of them broke into another few chuckles.

"I think everything that's happened today warrants Ichiraku's. What do you say?"

Iruka replied with a grin reminiscent of his eight-year-old self, before they changed and headed for the car park.

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sexual content ahead

Deciding to forgo their vehicles, they took the fifteen minute stroll to Ichiraku's. Since his honourable discharge Kakashi had only ventured to four places outside his apartment; his local liquor store, Gai's dojo, the library where the AA meetings used to be held and the school where they were now held. Not once had he gone out to survey his old town. Now, as he walked through the familiar, yet foreign streets, he couldn't help but notice new trees that had taken root, road signs for nearby places he'd never heard off, houses where no houses once stood, and businesses where no businesses once stood.

Iruka watched his companion, commenting on any new landmarks that an obsidian eye lingered too long on. Unlike the rest of the area, old man Teuchi's business withstood the test of time, the only difference being the added lines in the man's leathery skin.

The two of them walked up to the counter, immediately recognising the back of the owner's head as he made preparations for the next batch of ramen. Like it had been nine days, instead of nine years since their last visit, the two settled in to their usual seats; Kakashi at the end with his back to the wall and his elbow propping up his head on the counter, and Iruka right beside him.

"How can I he-" The man's sentence was cut short as he turned to see his customers, gaping at the nostalgia. The two customers saw the shock fade from Teuchi's features, replaced instead by happiness, as he reached over the counter to give Kakashi a welcoming pat on the shoulder. "Well, I never thought I'd see the day!"

After offering the men their first bowls free, the three men continued to reminisce, recalling bygone years and almost-forgotten stories, until, five bowls later (on Iruka's part), the two customers decided to head home, promising to visit again soon.

**…**

"What?! You don't remember the time we had to do all of Teuchi's dishes for the night because we couldn't pay? It was just after I got my orange belt and you treated me to Ichiraku's but you had no money so we washed dishes to pay it off."

"Wait, that wasn't because I didn't have money, you had twelve bowls that day! I couldn't even pay for half of that."

Scratching his scar as the embarrassing memory returned, Iruka chuckled sheepishly. "Oh yeah...my bad."

Kakashi couldn't help but laugh aloud. It wasn't just the sheepish look on his companions face, or the many humorous anecdotes they had remembered today. He was happy. Genuinely happy and at ease with life. At some point that evening, he'd realised that that era, when his world could be whittled down to karate, Iruka and ramen alone, had been the simplest and happiest of his life. And today, he'd had a chance to relive that. He couldn't help but hope he could continue doing so.

As the two of them strolled back into the school car park, the conversation meandered off at the realisation that it was time to part ways. Their slow pace came to a complete halt at the rear end of Kakashi's Land Rover Evoque.

"Thank you for coming today, the kids loved it."

"Did you?" Iruka felt that familiar heat rise up to the apples of his cheeks at the question, remembering the other events that had occurred that day.

"Of course. Today was...I loved today." The teacher reflected the day's events and wouldn't even try to deny the amount of fun he'd had. The thought of it ending brought him on a downer; he really didn't want to go home and mark papers.

Iruka's eyes widened fractionally as he saw the pale face in front of him move closer to his own. He couldn't help but lower his gaze to thin pink lips and his heart beat seemed to accelerate as they began to descend, only to bypass his own waiting lips. An involuntary shiver passed through him as he felt a warm breath tickle his ear.

"I don't want you to go home either."

The flush at Iruka's cheeks spread to the very tips of his ears at the realisation that, not only must he have let his inner monologue slip, but just from a few whispered words, his breaths had quickened and his eyes had slipped shut.

Kakashi pulled back, but stayed at a proximity that was still too close to be platonic, a smirk on his face that did nothing to alleviate the blush on Iruka's. The teacher tried forming words but, what do you reply to that?

Seeing his inner struggle, the silver-haired man stepped in, swallowing a bit of anxiety before laying on the table what they were both apprehensive to ask. "I know you don't have any 'apology food' to bring, but do you still want to come over?"

"I'd like tha-"

"Iruka! Kakashi!" Both men bolted apart as though an electric current had simultaneously passed through them. They turned to see Tsunade waving at them from across the car park. There was a smile on her face as she walked over, but both men could tell it was painfully forced and it made them wonder how long she'd been standing there.

"Kakashi, my nephew must be having a good influence on you if he persuaded you to return to the AA meetings. Twenty minutes early, at that." The woman tried to meet both their gazes, but they were denying her the privilege, Iruka with his eyes to the ground, Kakashi with his off to the side. "So, shall we head in…"

"I'm not coming to AA anymore. You know that. We were just about to leave actually." Kakashi turned to head to the driver's seat before Tsunade spoke up once again.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Her eyes drifted between the two men and the hidden meaning in her words was received loud and clear.

Kakashi chose not to answer, instead opening the car door and boarding his vehicle. Iruka was left outside, his aunt's piercing look keeping him from jumping in as well.

Stepping closer to her nephew, brows furrowed out of concern, she asked him again, her tone lower for the teacher’s ears only, each word sounded out slowly. "Iruka, are you sure this is wise?"

The man felt like he really had been transported back to his youth, the reprimanding tone reminding him of times that he'd disappointed his guardian. "We're...I just...I don't know."

The blonde woman gave a heavy sigh. This is definitely not what she saw coming when she had orchestrated their meeting. "You're both grown men, I'm not going to tell you what you should and shouldn't do. I just want you to remember that Kakashi isn't well. I know when someone's pretending everything's alright, I did it all the time, and he pulls it off well. But mentally...emotionally, he's a wreck. Eventually he's going to crack if he keeps all his problems bottled up the way he does. Starting a relationship on that kind of footing is like building a house upon sand; eventually it's going to collapse."

Iruka was never good at shielding his emotions and, at that moment, the distress was evident in the biting of his lips and the wringing of his hands. With a squeeze of his shoulder she left him, hoping her words had sunk in. The tanned man walked to the passenger side of Kakashi's car, instinctively getting in even though he could feel his aunt's eyes watching in disapproval.

"What did she say?" Turning to face the man who spoke, Iruka studied his face. It was as nonchalant as ever, but the grip he had on the steering wheel was tense as they got onto the road.

"Nothing that would surprise you." The tanned man left it at that and so did Kakashi, the sound of the rubber tires against the tarmac and the passing motors being the only thing easing the rigid silence.

This continued solidly until both men had exited the car and entered Kakashi's apartment complex. On his part, Iruka didn't speak because the thoughts running wild in mind left no room for possible conversation topics. What his aunt had said to him was fighting it out with his own desires, leaving him as an unreadable shell on the outside, while inside his internal alter egos were at war.

The silver-haired man had been watching his companion, noting the silence and the way his eyes seemed to be focused on nothing in particular. He'd endured it in the car, but as they entered the elevator, the gaudy music being the only sound, he reached the end of his tether.

"If you don't want to be here, I can drive you back."

Blinking out of his reverie, Iruka looked to Kakashi with his head tilted. "I do want to be here."

"Are you sure about that? You haven't said two words to me since you talked to Tsunade."

Fixing the silver-haired man with his own intense look, surely one he picked up from his aunt over the years, he repeated himself, his words more sure. "I want to be here."

The elevator dinged and they both walked into Kakashi's apartment, removing shoes and outerwear. Iruka didn't exactly know what to do with himself being that he'd never been here under normal circumstances as a regular guest.

Opening the only door Iruka had never ventured behind, the older man gestured him in. "Make yourself at home, I'll go fix us something to drink." It took him a few moments to work out why the tanned man's features had suddenly turned dark. "Like tea."

Iruka nodded, walking into the living room while the other headed for the kitchen. He was struck by how clean it was. Clean but impersonal. The cream walls and mahogany floorboards told nothing of who Kakashi was. No photos or paintings or memorabilia on the shelves. The bookcase in the corner, with several orange spines facing him was the only personal touch to the room. There were just so many! The teacher found himself tracing his finger along the names, chuckling inwardly at what the titles suggested.

"You can borrow some if you want." The husky voice suddenly at his ear nearly made him screech, not realising the man had gotten in to the room, let alone so close him. He turned to face the taller man. Like in the car park, their closeness was doing strange things to his breathing pattern. Instinctively, he bit his lip, his aunt's words making him anxious about the whole situation.

Like a moth to a flame, Kakashi's eyes were drawn to the plump lip being abused by it's owners teeth. In mimicry of their first kiss, he smoothed his thumb over the other man's chin, gently pulling it to release his lip from the clutches of his teeth. But unlike the first time, words tumbled out of Iruka's mouth as soon as his lips were parted.

"The tea's getting cold." The spell that the silver-haired man was under was immediately broken. With a quick clear of his throat he nodded, backing away from the teacher to sit on the black leather sofa. He leaned over to the coffee table, pouring out the still-steaming jasmine tea into cups for them both.

All the confidence Kakashi had built up till this point had fizzled like a match in the rain; not even a flicker or smoke remaining. He thought he'd sussed the younger man out; thought he understood what it was that he wanted, thought they wanted the same thing, but now… For all he knew, Iruka was only here to make sure he didn't drink. The thought stewed in his mind till he could think of no other logical explanation.

Placing his cup down on the glass coffee table a little too harshly, he turned to the brunette beside him. "If you're only here because you think I'm going to drink, you can go." Chocolate eyes only blinked at him as he continued to sip his jasmine. "I don't even have any in the house! I drained it all." Iruka just took two more sips. "I haven't drank in two days!"

Setting his own cup down, Iruka turned to face the silver-haired man completely. "Stop looking for ulterior motives behind my being here. You were a constant feature in my life for so long, forgive me if I want to spend all my time with you now that I have you back."

Kakashi tried to ignore the way his stomach seemed to oscillate from that sentence, pinning it down to the ramen and not the possessiveness in the words. "Spending time with someone usually implies talking."

"You're always silent! Why don't you do the talking for once?"

"Yours is the talking role in this rela- ...friendship." Kakashi hoped his near slip of the tongue would go unnoticed, but the way Iruka's eyes darted away from him suggested otherwise.

"Yeah well, I have a lot on my mind."

"Hm. What Tsunade said?"

"She's right, you know. I don't know what this is between us, but it's not very wise."

Kakashi couldn't stop the grinding of his teeth. The two kisses they'd already shared were not something he wanted to keep in the past, having to jog his memory every time he wanted to remember the feel of Iruka's soft lips against his or the way his tan hands would clutch at his chest or glide through his hair. He knew the reason behind Iruka's reluctance but he asked anyway. "Why?"

Iruka scowled at the question. The issue here was ridiculously clear. With a deep sigh, he stated the obvious. "Because, Kakashi, you're not well and until you are it's not a good id-"

"I told you, I'm fine! I haven't drank for tw-"

"If you think not drinking for two days suddenly cures someone from their alcoholism then you're more in denial than you think!"

"No, you're right. Two days without alcohol doesn't cure an alcoholic, but I didn't want to drink and I didn't. Doesn't that say something? Doesn't that show you that it's not that big of an issue?"

"Oh, so it was easy? You just decided to give up and you did?."

"Exactly."

"And you could do it again?"

"Of course."

"For like a month?"

"Sure."

"Fine. If you're successful in not drinking for a month I'll concede that you don't have a problem and we...we can carry on this-this thing."

Kakashi bit the inside of his lip, trying at all costs to keep his exterior calm even though warning bells were ringing inside. Who was he kidding? There was no way he could last four weeks without a drink. No, he could, but he didn't want to. It wasn't going to be on every occasion that he'd be able to spend time with Iruka or call up Gai to distract himself. What would he do when the memories hit and Obito returned to haunt him?

His pride decided he'd deal with that when the time came. "Deal."

Iruka narrowed his eyes at Kakashi. He knew the man was lying. He knew there was no way he'd last a month without drinking; the man he'd seen before today was nothing if not alcohol dependent. But he could clearly see the determination in that obsidian eye and found himself complying. "Deal."

Silence passed over the two of them as they settled into the sofa and the tea-drinking was resumed. Time spent in their own heads allowed them to fully comprehend what they had signed up to. Drinking aside, they'd both just signed up to keeping their relationship friendly. They'd signed up to pretending that the heat between them was nothing more than the approaching summer climate.

The thought seemed to strike them both as they looked at the other out of the corner of their eyes, only to look away, embarrassed at being caught, but glad they weren't the only one feeling the tension in the room.

With an anxious clearing of his throat, Kakashi got up to retrieve the remote. What was the point of cable television on a 42" screen with high-definition if he couldn't use it to dispel sexual tension and awkwardness?

After clicking to the movie category, he handed the remote to the younger man. "Pick a movie."

Kakashi had a crazy number of channels, but after scrolling for a while, Iruka found a title that made him stop and chuckle. On the screen Mr Miyagi was moving the rags in his hands in circular motions on the hood of a car, repeating 'wax on, wax off' to his sceptical looking student.

Iruka laughed at the scene. "Why'd you never teach me like this?" Kakashi sniggered along, the remote being placed back onto the coffee table as they settled into the film of choice. The heat between them remained – perhaps it always would – but the tension eased as they discussed the techniques and teaching styles they could bring back to Naruto and Sasuke.

It was was approaching 11pm when the credits began to roll.

"I haven't seen that in so long!"

"It was my first time." Kakashi thought the hazel eyes could not possibly widen any more than they were.

"What do you mean? The Karate Kid is a classic."

"I don't watch a lot of movies."

"But- But it's about Karate! That makes it almost mandatory for you to watch."

"Hm, is it the best karate film of all time or something?"

"Of course not, you know Enter The Dragon takes that title." Kakashi raised a fine silver eyebrow willing the man to elaborare. "Enter The Dragon. Bruce Lee. Hollywood's first and greatest martial arts movie!" As Kakashi continued to look on in confusion, he realised he'd been wrong; Iruka's hazel eyes could indeed widen further. "Blasphemy! We're watching it tonight!"

Grabbing his laptop from his school bag, Iruka opened up the movie; one of the many he had downloaded on to the portable cinema. Settling it on his thighs, he sat beside Kakashi, telling him to prepare to have his socks knocked off.

**…**

Kakashi looked at the man at his side. He'd been so engrossed in the film he hadn't noticed Iruka was sleeping until a head landed on his shoulder. It had been incredibly difficult trying to concentrate on the movie after that, especially with the younger man's heavy breaths fanning his collarbone. Despite that, he soldiered on, finishing the film which he couldn't deny was epic.

He had long since moved the laptop to the coffee table, yet, he had made no effort to move just yet. Iruka really was beautiful. He could hear the gentle snores leaving his parted lips now that the movie had been silenced. The plump lower lip hung slightly. He loved it like that; freed from the teeth that so often liked to keep it captive. On the other hand, he wouldn't mind biting it himself.

_'One month.'_

Sighing, he ended his self-torture, gently shaking Iruka awake. He watched as thick dark eyelashes fluttered over tanned cheeks, before chocolate eyes were once again revealed.

"Its past 1am. We should sleep."

Nodding absent-mindedly, Iruka followed Kakashi out of the living room. It was only as they crossed the threshold of the bedroom that he properly awoke.

"Eh, I-I can't sleep here!"

"Why not? You've slept in my bed on more than one occasion." The taller man walked to the dresser retrieving sleepwear for them both, but not before noting the adorable flush on his companion's cheeks.

"Ye-yeah...But that was before."

"Scared you can't last a month?"

Iruka stuttered at the accusation, before grabbing the offered pyjamas and striding to the bathroom, followed only by Kakashi's sniggers.

**…**

With a few deep breaths, Iruka exited the bathroom. Of course he was scared he couldn't last a month! His libido had been dormant for a length of time he was too embarrassed to acknowledge and now it had been awoken with a ferocity he was also too embarrassed to acknowledge.

But this was Kakashi, he didn't want it to be a fleeting stage of passion that would eventually crash and burn. He wanted his house built on concrete and if that meant ignoring his libido for a while, so be it. He just hoped it would be as compliant.

Walking into the bedroom, the dimmed lights and body-shaped mound in the bed told him Kakashi had already retired. Creeping so as not to wake the man, he slid into the covers on the vacant side of the bed, his stomach facing down and his arms forming a second pillow beneath his head.

He watched his friend's serene face in the dim room, only the moonlight through the half-open blinds allowing him to do so. In the room's shadows, the darkness under his eyes was nearly invisible, but his skin still looked like fine china, the gloom doing nothing to hide his aristocratic features. Kakashi really was beautiful.

"Goodnight, Iruka."

To say he nearly jumped out of his skin when an amused onyx eye opened to stare at him, would be an understatement. Closing his own eyes, he turned his head to the other side of the room.

"Goodnight, Kakashi."

**…**

The crimson seemed to endlessly pour out of the woman's body, the sticky liquid pooling around his boots as he stood beside the scene unable to do anything. A man knelt by her side continued to stroke her limp brown hair, whispering words that would never reach her as the crimson continued to ooze.

Kakashi watched as his feet moved closer to the man. His arm attempted to reach out to his shoulder, but the man jerked away. The man was angry, utterly livid, the rage turning his eyes an angry red that resembled the blood around them.

"This is all your doing." Kakashi tried to defend himself but the man continued relentlessly. "She would be alive if not for your failure. We would be alive!" As he shouted this, blood splattered out of his own mouth

"I-I tried. I came back."

"Too little, too late Kakashi."

With those last words, the scene in front of him dissipated into nothing, taking the man, the woman, and blood along with it. The silver-haired man found himself somewhere dark, so incredibly dark he had to squint in the hopes of seeing anything.

As he was just about to give up, a white dot seemed to appear in the distance. He moved closer to it, hoping for his sake it was the light at the end of the tunnel that would lead to his freedom.

These hopes were dashed as the light grew closer. He saw it to be a man with exceptionally bright hair; a silver not dissimilar to his own. The man was sat faced away from him. Rounding to face him, he saw eyes like his, but it was the blade buried deep in his stomach that caught his attention. A sickly red was spreading out from the blades entry in a gory ring; the greater it grew, the weaker he became.

Kakashi felt his hoarse throat expel a single syllable that seemed to echo in the dark abyss they were in. "Why."

"Hatake's are destined for failure. It's only so long you'll be able to endure what I no longer could."

**…**

Kakashi shot awake, sitting up in his bed. A cry so desperately wanted to escape his throat but an arm around his torso reminded him he wasn't alone. Clamping a hand around his mouth, he tried to regulate his erratic breathing, attempting and failing to forget the image of his dying friends and father. Shutting his eyes, he shook his head back and forth, apologising over and over again to the ghosts in his head.

**…**

Iruka was woken when his arm was shifted. He immediately realised he must have moved to Kakashi's side during the night. He really couldn't trust himself around the other man for the entire month, even while asleep it would seem. The teacher attempted to remove his arm, hoping he could avoid the teasing he would get if he were found like that in the morning.

However, as he pulled his arm back to his own side, he felt tremors on the other side of the bed. Risking an eye open, he was surprised to see Kakashi sat upright. So much for moving his arm before the man could see.

That still didn't explain the tremors though, lifting his head from the pillow, he was met with a sight that frightened him. As if he'd just witnessed a tragedy too harrowing and tragic to comprehend, Kakashi's hand was clasped around his mouth, his head was shaking back and forth as his eyes remained shut tight, despite the moisture pooling at his lashes.

Iruka lay frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from the traumatised Kakashi, but completely lost as to how to help. He was snapped into action when the wetness that had been gathering on his shut eyes, trickled out of his left eye and down his cheek to the fingers of the hand muzzling him.

Sitting upright beside him, he expected the man to notice his presence but he only continued to shake his head, filling Iruka with even more fear for his companion, he attempted to get back the man back to his senses.

"K-Kakashi?" Nothing. Not even a flinch.

Lifting a hand, as he realised touch would be better than sound, he placed it on the disturbed man's shoulder. As soon as skin made contact with skin, Kakashi's eyes shot open and he jumped away from Iruka, as though surprised to find him there.

"Kakashi...are you alright?"

He watched in confusion as the silver-haired man looked at him, his eyes, both of them, widening as if just realising what he was doing and who he was with. Without a word he drew out of the covers and headed out of the room. Only when he grabbed his wallet on the way out did Iruka stand to attention.

Following behind Kakashi, he watched as he grabbed a coat from the hook by the front door and before he could put it on, Iruka had taken it out of his grasp, moving to stand between the man and his door.

Walking up to Iruka, the silver-haired man stopped right before him, his eyes boring into him with an intensity that would have made a lesser man run.

"Move."

"No."

"Iruka." Kakashi moved closer as red and black eyes narrowed, the threat evident. The teacher couldn't lie and say he wasn't scared. The older man was a few inches taller, but as it was he seemed to tower over him completely, their proximity, again too close to be normal, but in a way that intimidated instead of excited him. He'd be damned if he was going to back down though.

"Kakashi. You can't...I-I won't let you go out and get alcohol." He watched as the man's jaw tightened and his hand snaked beside his waist to grab the door handle anyway. Gripping onto the bicep, hazel met crimson and onyx in a pleading gaze, his tone a pleading whisper. "Please, 'Kashi. I won't let you hurt yourself like this."

Red and black disappeared behind pale lids at Iruka's words. Kakashi came closer, closing the last bit of space between them as he placed his forehead upon a tan one. "I'm already hurting."

Iruka found his arms wrapping around Kakashi's neck, instinctively holding him as close as he could. For a long moment, the taller man remained tense, a palm still grasped around the door handle, but as Iruka held him ever closer, the tension in his shoulders eased and he melted into the younger man's embrace. His arms came loosely around a tan waist and his face buried itself in the offered neck.

**…**

Iruka was warm, so very warm, and Kakashi couldn't help but hold him that little bit closer. It wasn't like he could forget the dream, but as the younger man tightened his arms around his neck, the images seemed to get further away.

It didn't last though, just as his mind seemed to ease momentarily, his father's words intruded on his fleeting peace, echoing in his head and sounding truer and truer each time.

Like a castaway drifting in an ocean of despair and remorse, the silver man did the only thing he could to keep his head afloat, he held on to his anchor for dear life. Burying his face deeper into Iruka's neck, he breathed into the darker skin, revelling in the sweet spice as he encircled his arms around the man's waist, grateful for the solidity the other man provided. But, as usual, his ghosts would not let him rest and persisted in their haunting; Obito's accusing words laying heavy on his shoulders.

There was no way to hold tighter to his anchor, he was as close as their bodies would allow, his arms as tight as they could be without bruising bronze skin. It was less a conscious move, more a reflex, when he began to nuzzle the neck he was offered. The arms that had been wrapped tight around Iruka loosened until his hands were a few inches away, as they began a soft caress to the teacher's lower back.

Kakashi was so content in his ministrations, he couldn't tell that the man before him had tensed slightly. He continued on like this for a while, inwardly gratified by the knowledge that these new touches, while making his heart thrum pleasantly, were also keeping his demons away more effectively than a mere hug. More effectively, but not indefinitely.

He didn't think about his actions as the nuzzling of a neck became a kiss. He peppered a few of the the soft puckers on the available collar, before he felt two hands at his chest halting his movements as the neck moved out of his reach.

"K-Kakashi what are-"

The teacher had no time to finish his sentence before a pair of thin lips silenced him in a harsh kiss, their teeth knocking from the older man's insistence. With a firmer push, the flustered man once again detached them, but the arms still stroking at his back kept them still close enough to feel each other's breaths fanning their faces.

"Wh-what are doing?" It was barely a whisper, but the distance between them ensured the other man heard it. He heard it, yet he chose not to answer, continuing his soft strokes to the man's back and looking him dead in the eye, with a look of nothing but carnal need.

Iruka could do nothing but endure the gaze, realising that he himself had given the same look to the man before him not too long ago, but trying to keep hold of the shred of reason that was giving off warning signals.

"We decided, Kakashi. We decided, o-one month." The only reply was movement closer, as Kakashi slowly pushed past the hands that were still at his chest. The man brought his face beside Iruka's, his heavy breath the only sound in the empty hallway.

A light kiss to the temple had the younger man slipping his eyes closed, melting into the intimacy as a trail of kisses was placed along his jawline. He felt one more stroke of lips to the left of his own before a sudden chill appeared as Kakashi's warm breath pulled away from him.

Hazel met lust-coloured eyes again, but this time he knew his own were a similar shade. He could feel his resolve breaking with each stroke he received to his back, but he had one more protest in him.

"This isn't w-wise."

Iruka wasn't in the least bit surprised when lips once again descended upon his. The urgency from before had lessened, but the heat had not. It didn't take long till the pale man's lips were not the only ones participating. Gingerly at first, plump lips joined the party, until their motions matched Kakashi's, both giving as good as they got.

Needing more contact, the soldier slipped his hands into the hem of Iruka's borrowed pyjama top, the cold finger tips a sharp contrast to the heated skin of the man's back. The unexpected contact drew a silent gasp from the teacher, Kakashi using the opportunity to conquer the now open cavern with his tongue.

A sharp nip to the tip of his tongue had him retreating, but he wasn't expecting to be followed back to his own mouth by Iruka's tongue. The tanned man's hands were fisted tightly at his chest in a silent command for more contact as he continued his wild exploration of Kakashi's mouth.

Not one to be outdone, Kakashi pressed Iruka harder into the door and he moved his hands from the man's back to his front. The were no killer abs to be found there, but a hard body with the smoothest skin. He firmly pressed his palms up the torso, stopping only after he'd grazed pert nipples. This was followed by a raking of his nails downwards across the same path, eliciting a low moan from the brunette as the nails scraped now-awakened nipples. The slow torturous path of smooth palms upward and rough nails downward was steadily turning Iruka into a writhing mess against the door.

Kakashi's erection was, by now, straining; begging for some kind of friction, and if the circular movements being played across his thigh was anything to go by, Iruka was in a similar position. Aligning their members he gave a tormentingly slow grind that drew a low groan from his own throat, while Iruka's head lolled backwards against the door to release a breathless moan.

The hands at the shorter man's chest never ceased in their blazing trails and the slow grinding picked up in pace as Kakashi sucked on the offered neck. Who said men couldn't multitask? The multiple sensations attacking the teacher had him forgetting to participate, as all he could do was whimper under the attention.

The nipping and sucking continued at Iruka's neck, scarlet marks being made along the caramel skin. The silver-haired man yearned for more skin to taste; the high round collar on the t-shirt allowing for no such leeway. With a growl, he pulled the hem of it upwards, removing it swiftly and sinking his teeth into the newly revealed shoulder, pulling a sob from the teacher, followed immediately by a moan as the abused spot was licked along with a slow grind of their members.

Kakashi's skin was impossibly hot by this point, all prior thought evaporated as he completely immersed himself into the pleasure they were giving each other. Taking off his own shirt, he brought their chests together, the torturous grind never ceasing. But it would never be enough. No matter how light they were, the multiple fabrics between them left them needing more.

As soon as the idea came to the soldier's mind, he wasted no time releasing both their erections from their confines, the hard organs springing to life and making both men hiss when they made contact. The change in pace drew action out of Iruka, driving him to detach Kakashi from his neck and redirect him to his waiting lips as he clawed at the shoulders above him.

Kakashi wasted no time giving a long hard stroke to Iruka's shaft, swallowing the moan that followed. What he was not expecting was Iruka to offer the same courtesy. The silver-haired man had to break the kiss as his head dropped back to let out a heavy groan as the man brushed the slit of his leaking erection, taking the pre-cum down for a smooth stroke to the base of his penis and back up.

Opening his eyes, he met the heated, half-lidded hazel eyes before him. Holding the lustful gaze they both continued their massage of the other's member, the pace up and down matched perfectly by the other, even speeding up together.

"K-K...Kashi." The breathless pant was the only warning before Iruka reached his climax, his head rolling back against the door with loud moan, tremors running down his spine. Kakashi watched him completely let go like that and followed soon after, burying his face in the neck that absorbed a garbled version of Iruka's name.

It took many minutes for their pants to reduce to regular breathing. Righting himself, Kakashi looked into Iruka's eyes. As the stare continued it was evident neither of them had the right words to express what had just happened. After a chaste kiss to the brunette's temple, the taller man picked up their t-shirts, wiping down the mess, before he took Iruka's hand, guiding him back to the bedroom.

The topless men lay side by side in the darkness staring at the darkened ceiling, the right words still evading them, but thankfully for Kakashi, all thoughts beyond their recent activities were also absent.

The soldier's attention was drawn away from the empty ceiling at the feeling of warm fingers entwining with his own. He let the hand hold his for a moment before he pulled it away, noting the low sigh he received for it. He watched in the darkness as the body beside him turned to face away from him, misreading his gesture. Shuffling towards him, he melded their bodies with an arm around Iruka's waist.

"Goodnight 'Ruka." The aforementioned man gave a contented sigh as he received a kiss to the temple.

"Goodnight 'Kashi".

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the change from mature to explicit ;)

Iruka awoke to the unmistakable sound of a fire alarm. The school had enough fire drills for him to recognise it instantly and jump out of the bed he was in. He walked out of the bedroom and headed for the front door, but stilled at the entrance of the kitchen. There, on his tiptoes, waving a dish towel in front of the complaining alarm, was Kakashi; his naked muscled back flexing at the movement. A pan on the stove, with the remains of what looked to be bacon, continued to produce smoke, making Kakashi's efforts useless. The teacher stayed in the hallway for a few more moments, ogling the creamy expanse of skin over taut muscle, before he walked into the kitchen, turning the stove off and taking the smoky pan to the sink to water down.

At the sound of the opening faucet, Kakashi spun on his heel, taking in the sight of Iruka at the sink. His hair had been let loose from it's confines through the night and now, the chocolate locks were splayed across his tan shoulders. It was an absolute mess, all ruffled from sleep and sexy exploits; a sharp contrast to the teacher's usual pulled back style - Kakashi loved it.

As the last of the smoke dissipated under the water, the alarm quieted down and the older man ceased his pointless towel waving. Walking up beside Iruka, he embarrassedly rubbed the back of his neck, watching as the black remains were scraped off the pan.

"Heh...sorry if I woke you. Cooking isn't really my forte."

With a slight chuckle, the brunette turned to him. "Yeah, I can te-" The man's words cut short as his eyes widened, really looking at Kakashi now that he was close up. "What the hell happened to you?"

The man in question raised a confused brow, but followed Iruka's line of sight to his shoulder. A smirk spread across his face. He'd looked himself in the mirror this morning and knew it was the many red lines etched into his pale skin that had caught the younger man's attention.

"You have pretty sharp nails." Kakashi's smirk only widened further as the realisation hit Iruka. His cheeks reached an angry shade of flustered red as he turned away from Kakashi, lowering his eyes with a groan.

"Ugh, that's so embarrassing. I don't remember being so...feline. I'm so sorry." The supposedly injured man only chuckled at the apology. He couldn't even feel the scratches, but his fair skin made the abrasions look worse than they were. If anything, Iruka was in a worse state.

"Don't apologise, I'm fine. In fact, I should be apologising to you." The brunette tilted his head in confusion, earning another snicker from Kakashi. "Go check the mirror." With a furrowed brow, Iruka did as he was told, leaving after one last glance at the clawed shoulders, cringing at the thin red lines upon them and across the upper arms.

Entering the bathroom, he walked up to the mirror in front of the sink and nearly screeched at the sight of himself. From his jaw, all along his neck and to his collarbones, heavy bruises were raised, the deep red standing out against his light brown skin. Across his shoulder he could see an even darker bruise centred around what were clearly teeth marks. He was the abused one here!

"Kakashi!" The shout travelled to kitchen making the man jump, before he broke out in a peal of laughter. He tried to muffle them as he made his way to the bathroom, but failed completely, laughing out right at the distressed look on the younger man's face and the shaky finger pointed to his bitten shoulder.

"What the fuck, Kakashi? I look abused!" The only reply was further laughter. "It's not funny! What if they don't fade by Monday? What were you thinking?"

Kakashi managed to rein it in back to few sniggers and a smirk. "You weren't complaining yesterday."

The blush travelled to the very ends of Iruka's ears and he shook with barely suppressed rage, but he didn't have a comeback. He turned back to the mirror, examining more of the red-raw darkened skin. Of course he wasn't complaining yesterday; he couldn't remember ever being so turned on, and the last time a handjob had given him tremors was so long ago he questioned the accuracy of the memory. Still, how would he explain his new cheetah prints to his coworkers? Crossing his arms, Iruka glared at the still sniggering man through the mirror.

Walking up behind the annoyed man, Kakashi placed his hands on the other's shoulders, caressing over the marked skin till he uncrossed his arms and dropped them to his sides.

"I really am sorry 'Ruka. I was gonna make you breakfast to show you how sorry I was, but that didn't go too well." Stroking the bite mark once more, he lowered his head to place a few kisses on it, enjoying the shuddering sigh that escaped the man and watching through the mirror as his eyelids fluttered. "Forgive me?"

Iruka sighed again. Like he could ever say no. Pulling his shoulder away from Kakashi's distracting lips, the teacher hummed to imply his forgiveness, the glare lifted from his hazel orbs, left only with an inspecting look as he leaned closer to the mirror, tracing his finger over the bruises that were above the collar line.

"These will definitely be visible over my shirt," he noted, mostly to himself, as he winced after poking a particularly tender spot by his Adam's apple.

"So?"

Iruka lifted his gaze from his neck to the dark eye in the mirror. Kakashi was looking at him so nonchalantly, as if he didn't look like the victim of asphyxiation. "What do you mean, 'so'? I can't be seen like this. I'm a teacher!"

A lazy smirk appeared on the lips that created this whole mess. "That would only be an issue if I was your student. Last time I checked…" Kakashi moved closer to Iruka, his chest meeting the other's back as he leaned down to whisper, "I'm your sensei."

Iruka would never admit to being turned on by such a lewd comment, but his half-lidded eyes in the mirror and the barely audible gulp said enough. He opened his mouth to steer the conversation back on safer ground, but he could feel the rise and fall of Kakashi's chest at his back, and he instead had to use his energy trying not to lean into the warmth. A few moments passed before he remembered a conversation had been taking place.

"Th-that's not what I meant...you pervert." A playful look passed between them, the ever-present smirk on Kakashi's face seemingly sexier than it had ever been. "What am I going to say to the other teachers? These bruises will have them talking, for sure."

The soldier lifted and dropped a casual shoulder. "Everyone's allowed a few hickeys from time to time."

"A few? It looks like you tried strangling me! And cannibalism is illegal you know!"

Kakashi chuckled once more, looking on as Iruka inspected the bite mark with mock agony; the exaggerated pout belied by the playfulness in bright brown eyes. The older man had been worried the morning would bring with it a whole host of awkwardness and regrets on Iruka's part, but this morning banter was better than he could have hoped for.

"It's only a lovebite"

A light pink crept upon bronze cheeks, but Iruka tried to keep it down as he ignored the underlying suggestions in order to keep up with their surprisingly amusing repartee. "L-love?! There's no love here, this is domestic abuse!"

"Mah, Iruka. Why are you making me out to be some abusive alcoholic boyfriend?" A snicker was on the man's lips before he sensed how tense Iruka had become. The tanned man was no longer meeting his eyes in the mirror and the playful pout had retreated behind the nervous gnaw of his front row of teeth. Only then did it click that he had brought up the one subject, above all others, that he should have avoided. He could have kicked himself as he felt the light atmosphere being weighed down by the sudden entrance of the taboo issue. He could think of nothing to say to ease back into the banter, but he didn't need to as Iruka broke the silence with a tentative question.

"So...Is-is that what you are?"

The pale man was caught of guard, blinking repeatedly at the question but still finding Iruka's eyes darting defiantly away from his.

"I...Of course I'm not abusive Iruka! It was meant to be a joke, but clearly I fail miserably-"

The man's ramblings were cut off when hazel finally returned the gaze through the mirror, a serious, but evidently nervous look in his eyes. "Not that. I meant the...the boyfriend part."

Kakashi was blank for a second before understanding finally hit. He couldn't help but let out a little breath of relief at dodging the whole alcohol topic. It had been so long since the last time he'd tried to engage in humorous conversation; he'd clearly lost the hang of it. Concentrating on the man in the mirror, he held the questioning look, taking in the anxious lip biting. The whole scene had his brow furrowing as he analysed what he'd been asked.

"I thought that would be obvious."

Iruka matched Kakashi with his own creased brow. "Why would that be obvious? The last time we had a coherent conversation it was an agreement that we would leave this thing for a month."

"True, but the stipulations of that agreement kinda went out the window, don't you think?" A raised silver brow and the obsidian eye passing between their naked torsos alluded to the obviousness of his statement.

Iruka had the decency to blush, but the crease in his brow only deepened. "That still doesn't make this a good idea."

Kakashi's single eye narrowed, challenging the younger man to deny the palpable connection between them. "Why is that, Iruka?"

The man in question heaved a heavy sigh that blew out his cheeks, rolling his eyes away as he muttered his answer. "You know why Kaka-"

"No, I really don't," Kakashi interrupted, his hand moving to grip the wash basin either side of the shorter man, trapping him between the sink and himself. He maintained the heated gaze in the mirror as he spoke close to a tanned ear, his voice low but laced with barely hidden frustration. "I'm a man with demons. Yesterday was evidence enough of that. I'll even concede to your notions that because of those demons, I've developed a less than healthy relationship with alcohol. But, I don't know what that has to do with you and I being together. Being with you isn't going to make me drink more, quite the contrary, if last night was any indication. That has me thinking, maybe your reluctance stems from you...you not being as sure about me as I am about you, but I know you have to feel at least a fraction of what I feel. Yesterday was evidence enough of that too. So no, I haven't got a clue why you insist on this not being a good idea."

Iruka was completely taken aback by the intensity of those words, finding himself unable to meet the eye in the mirror, unable to give the answers it was demanding; momentarily unable to even remember what they were when faced with such a convincing remonstration. He kept his eyes down, biting his lip as he looked at the pale fingers gripping the white porcelain either side of his hips. He only looked up when they started to retreat minutes later. Braving the piercing obsidian, hazel returned to the mirror only to see Kakashi facing away, sculpted arms crossed in front of chiseled pectorals.

Still facing away from him, Kakashi spoke once more after a heavy sigh, the heat that had lit up his previous words fizzled out to a tone of defeat. "Forget it."

Iruka spun around upon hearing those words. That's the last thing he wanted to do, even if he could. No, he didn't want to forget, didn't want to erase, he just...wanted to postpone.

"Kakashi, I don't want to forget it." The silver-haired man, his arms still crossed in front of him, finally faced him again, but his furrowed brow and cold obsidian eye told of his scepticism towards Iruka's whispered words. Steeling his voice and his hands, he reached out to Kakashi's forearms, untangling them and bringing the man's hands down, entwined with his own. "Don't ever question what I feel for you, Kakashi. I care about you so much it may as well be unconditional because it's, more or less been constant since I was eight."

The soldier took in these words, looking down at the fingers that were stiff when he'd reluctantly given them to Iruka at first, but now seemed to meld together in the perfection of light and dark contrast. Couldn't Iruka see it? The way they both complimented each other in a way only yin and yang could. Kakashi frowned at his cheesy internal thinkings, but didn't take it back. It was kind of the perfect symbol for them, not just in the colour contrast of their skin, but the way each side was only whole when with the other.

Granted, Iruka probably didn't need him anymore – hadn't done for nine years – but Kakashi knew it was his turn to need the other. Never would that be admitted aloud. He'd tried so hard just to stop the thought materialising fully in his own mind, but since the kitchen kiss, then a lot more after the sparring kiss and now, after the doorway liaison it was undeniable.

Still, he wouldn't use the word need. No, he'd taken care to erase the word from his vocabulary at a very young age. But all other synonyms were applicable; he wanted Iruka. He craved him, coveted, desired, required him.

Looking up from their held hands, Kakashi continued to state his case with renewed determination. "Then what is it?"

"We should...we should just wait until your better."

A dark eye narrowed. "It's not an illness Iruka, it's my past and I can't cure that. My memories may never stop haunting me, does that mean we might never be together?"

Brown brows furrowed. "Of course not. That's not what I'm talking about. It's your dependence on alcohol that's the issue. Starting a relationship – a real one – where half the couple is hungover or drunk half the time is just a recipe for disaster. The house is bound to collapse!"

Kakashi had been following the debate till then. He paused trying to analyse Iruka's words, but failed to decipher the metaphor. "What house?"

"This house! The one we're trying to build!"

A silver head tipped to the side in utter confusion. He was pretty sure he would never discuss architecture or construction, even while drunk, so it had to be some kind of analogy. "Iruka...I have no idea what you're talking about."

The brunette sighed. He disentangled the fingers of one hand so he could rub at his scar, trying to come up with the right words to explain what had been going through his head since his aunt had planted this seed of doubt.

"A relationship is kinda like a house, right? That you build with your partner over time. And, I don't want this to be some flimsy shack that isn't gonna last. I want...I want a good, solid structure, with two storeys and a backyard and a white picket fence and...I want it to last. Indefinitely." He was aware that he may have taken the allegory too far, but the issue had been playing in his mind like a record on repeat and he was powerless not analyse every face of it. "But if we start building now, while you're not okay, while you're not 100% in your clearest capacity of mind, we'd be starting on sand. And then the great house we'd been trying to build would collapse anyway. I want to wait until we have concrete."

Kakashi looked on blankly. His lip twitched. Then it quivered. It stretched out slightly, before he raised his single free hand to cover up the grin spreading across his face. This was the issue?! Lowering his head so floppy silver locks could disguise the humour in his face, the man let the house metaphor sink in. He raised his head only after he was able to school his features back to nonchalance, but was faced with an annoyed frown.

"How is this funny Kakashi?" Iruka reclaimed his other hand, his turn to cross his arms over his chest having arrived.

With a poorly suppressed chuckle, the man in question replied with his own. "Tell me again why you think starting now would be starting on sand?

Heaving a sigh, Iruka looked away. "If you're just going to mock me, I'm leaving."

"Just answer the question."

An even heavier sigh escaped the younger man's lungs. "Because, Kakashi, you're alcohol dependent right now, and you...you're going through some things."

"Hm." Kakashi nodded, but a whisper of a smirk on his lips made Iruka think his words had gone in one ear and out the other. "Well, I think we're already starting on concrete. The thickest there is. About this thick." Kakashi moved his arms, one just above Iruka's head, palm facing down, the other just below Iruka's waistline, palm facing up.

The brunette glared, before turning to leave the bathroom, refusing to be the mocked for something he took pretty damn seriously. Kakashi, always the quickest of the two, slid his arm around the other's waist just as he was reaching for the door handle, spinning him and pinning him yet again, this time between himself and the bathroom door.

The shorter man was less than amused, but the mirth that had been in Kakashi's eye had sunk behind a veil of seriousness and sincerity that had any complaints dying before they rolled off Iruka’s tongue. He stood, back against the wooden door, his anxious habit of biting his lip resumed, as he waited for the older man's explanation.

Kakashi repeated his testimony, his dark eye wide and honest. "I think we're already starting on concrete. We have massive, immovable slabs set down for us, ready for us to build this house. This period is just a few jagged edges and uneven patches here and there, which, over time, we'll do our best to plaster over. But they're not going to collapse it. Our house may as well be indestructible."

Iruka wanted to believe the warm words fanning over his face. Really he did. He just couldn't. He had no more in him to fight verbally, a slow, continuous shake of his unbound chocolate locks the only thing remaining to indicate his disagreement, his disbelief.

A dry chuckle escaped Kakashi. "You idiot. You said it yourself. You care for me unconditionally, as I do for you. There isn't anybody on this planet who I've kept in my heart and in my mind for so long. Since I was twelve, Iruka! Fifteen years. I think that's a solid...more than a solid enough foundation to make sure our house won't collapse. Don't you?"

Iruka thought that he could feel his heart swell at that moment, but decided that was utterly too childish a description. Still, he wanted something to express the warmth that was spreading outwards inside of him, as though the ice that had formed as a barrier to keep Kakashi out for their own sake, was thawing out. He couldn't even form words at that moment, only those in his head that were scolding him for not seeing it Kakashi's way in the first place. How could he be so dense as to not recognise a decade-and-a-half worth of concrete foundations for a relationship. They may not have been together physically for a lot of that time but the other man had been so firmly placed in his heart and mind the entire time, filling a space no one else could ever occupy so wholly, even from so far away.

His aunt was wrong. This was going to be one of the wisest decisions he'd ever made.

Iruka immediately ate the small distance between them, reaching Kakashi's lips and melding them with his own. The pale man was ready for it, his thin lips already parting to welcome the other's pink muscle. Tan arms wrapped around a cream neck as the kiss deepened, Kakashi's arms holding tight around Iruka as their chests met unobstructedly.

The passionate liplock could have lasted longer, but the younger man's lungs were the first to give in, pulling him away from the other man to retrieve the oxygen he needed, only a fragment more than he needed the man before him. Dropping his head back upon the door, he presented his bruised neck. Hickeys already covered over half of it, may as well go the whole nine yards and make him a scarf of them.

Kakashi wasted no time in accepting the tempting offering, laying soft kisses along the golden skin. He gave a hard lick to a particularly darkened point in the hollow of Iruka’s collarbone. The jittery breath he received from the sensitive spot had him keen to pleasure it for sweeter sounds. A few well placed nibbles and a particularly hard suck extracted a delicious whimper that travelled straight to the taller man's groin, encouraging a thrust of hips that met Iruka's, pulling a moan from them both.

The single thrust turned into many, forming a rhythmic gyration as they both tried to increase the friction on their members, the thin pyjama material doing little to hide their prominent bulges. It could have gone on, their combined movements were so delicious Kakashi could have continued grinding to completion, but he knew from last night's experience there was only better to come. Tracing his fingers along Iruka's hemline he teasingly dipped in both index fingers, trailing them lightly from the sides to meet in the centre.

As Iruka felt the delicate brush of fingers, a total contrast to the desperate movements of their hips, he mused on how almost identical this encounter was to last nights. Must it always be his fate to be groped against a door with wood against his skin and a brass handle in his side?

"K-Kashi...wa-wait." His request was breathless but the sudden stillness of his hips and the shift of his hands from around a pale neck to against a pale chest spoke loud enough.

The man in question raised his head from the other's collarbone, but his half of the grinding continued seamlessly, even as he looked on, puzzled at Iruka's standstill. He watched as the tanned man continued to pant and his eyelids lowered at the continuous stimulation that made him momentarily forget his reason for stopping.

A particularly blissful thrust pulled a long moan from him as he threw his head back, only to be met by the harsh knock of mahogany against his skull. Pushing a little more insistently on Kakashi's chest, he broke the contact of the their members, to the great disappointment on the pale man.

He looked on, horny and bewildered. "Wha-why?"

In his own haze of lust, Iruka only managed to breath a single word; "bed."

He didn't think it possible for that eye to contain any more heat, but he almost moaned at the sudden hunger that seemed to overtake Kakashi as he pulled him closer by the waist, opening the door behind him. They were barely in the corridor when he reconnected their lips, letting his memory of his home guide him as he lost himself in Iruka's mouth.

Reaching the bed, he none too gently dropped the tanned man onto the soft sheets.

**…**

The abrupt disconnection of their lips, as Iruka fell upon the dark blue sheets, had him rising only slightly above the fog of lust he'd been under. He tried to calm his heavy breaths, but the sight of the cream-skinned Adonis at the end of the bed made it difficult.

He could see Kakashi's dark eye slowly roving across his body and he paid the same respects, noting how the pale chest was rising and falling at the same pace his was. Dropping his gaze further, across the tight abs and towards the pyjama pants, he gulped at the evident erection straining for freedom.

The distance between them seemed to calm them down, if only partially, allowing them both to survey the situation before proceeding. As ever, that little voice in the back of Iruka's head was always at hand to cast doubt.

'Is this too soon? What if my aunt really was right? What if this will only make things more complicated? Shouldn't we make sure the demons have left and the nightmares have stopped before we add this new complication to the mix? What if this only makes it wor-'

Iruka's internal ramblings were swiftly put to an end as he watched, mesmerised as Kakashi tugged down on his trousers. He stared on as they descended further, before revealing the straining member between strong thighs. The rest of the clothing's descent went unnoticed as the teacher focused on the revealed organ. It proudly stood to attention, the red head leaking drops of precum.

Kakashi placed his knees onto the bed, stalking forward like a panther to it's prey, as Iruka scooted back. He dropped onto the pillows as the soldier finally reached him, hovering over him

**…**

Kakashi looked down at the man underneath him. There was nothing left in his eyes besides anticipation as he waited to see what he would do next. He inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

He'd seen it. The moments of doubt that had flashed across Iruka's face, removing the desire from his eyes and replacing them with uncertainty. There were only two options he could think that would incite the hesitation. Either he was having second thoughts about this whole partnership, or he had suddenly realised they were about to go all the way and wasn't sure he was ready.

The older man was willing to pray to a God he didn't believe in that it wasn't the first option.

Iruka's head tipped slightly to the side. A questioning gesture maybe – understandable with the way he had just climbed above him, only to stop abruptly and stare at him. Stopping the cogs in his brain, he let his body take over, lowering himself to the man before and reclaiming the waiting lips.

It wasn't like before. All the others had a kind of desperation to them, as if one of them knew it could be their last, and the other knew it should be their last kiss. But this time was different; the languid movement of their tongues was unhurried as both men simply enjoyed the feel of the other.

If not for the erections demanding attention, they may have stayed like that, content with the brush of lips against lips, tongue versus tongue and body against body. Alas though, their aching need to climax called for more, dragging Kakashi down from kiss-swollen lips to a hickey-filled neck.

He could have stayed there too, honestly. The caramel skin was so soft to the touch and even sweeter to the taste, but he reckoned he'd put it through enough in the past twenty-four hours. Besides, there was five foot and ten inches worth of that caramel still left to explore.

Bypassing the neck he made his way to Iruka's chest, dropping kisses here and there before bringing his attention to dark nipples. Swiping his tongue against one, he listened to the hitch in the breathing. He was aiming for more though, taking the whole nub between his lips to suck none to gently, before rolling it between his teeth. He was pleased with the low moan he got for that, repeating at the opposite nipple for the same effect.

His attention was quickly drawn elsewhere though, as his lips continued their journey down the tan expanse. Every here and there he would drop heavy kisses, sucking in various spot, stopping at any one that produced a particularly sweet sound. The last one was above the waistband of the pyjamas. He sucked on the skin harshly, pulling the highest moan from Iruka so far.

By this point the man beneath him was panting, eyes shut and head dropped back on the plump pillows. He was writhing in anticipation, knowing exactly where his lips were headed next. As Kakashi hooked his fingers in the last remaining article of clothing between them, Iruka wasted no time raising his hips and shimmying out.

Throwing the offending garment somewhere on the floor, Kakashi returned to the matter at hand. Iruka's cock was a tad shorter than his own, but a bit thicker. He watched, his heavy breaths falling on the member, as a little dribble of precum escaped the slit.

He could have teased longer, but really, who would have the willpower? He succumbed to the temptation, licking the slit slowly from top to bottom, enjoying the wanton groan that came from Iruka more than the salty taste.

He placed his lips around the whole head, sucking briefly before letting it pop out of his mouth. A little whimper escaped Iruka, only to moan louder when the lips returned, taking in an inch more than before. He sucked generously this time, earning a deep groan for that one. Again he let the shaft pop out of his mouth. It was more a whine this time, as Iruka complained without words, asking with the slight raise of his hips for more.

Kakashi granted more; dropping his lips on the head once more and travelling down the shaft another inch further to deliver a powerful suck, but like before, he travelled back up, painfully slowly, before letting it drop from his mouth.

"Ka-please..Kashi." Who was he to deny such a wanton plea?

Dropping his lips upon Iruka's erection, he didn't stop this time until the head hit the back of his throat, relaxed enough not to gag when tan hips involuntarily thrust, his back arching clean of the bed.

The noises...god, he seriously believed Iruka could go platinum if he ever recorded them. The shameless desire in those moans and groans kept Kakashi painfully hard as he listened to the drawn out vowels, broken fragments of his name and other deities garbled in there for good measure.

The hands that had been caressing bronze thighs moved swiftly, one stroking Iruka's balls, the other tugging desperately at his own leaking cock.

It was all too much for Iruka; the fondling of his sack, the way the tip of his dick continued to hit against the back of Kakashi's throat and the strong sucks that were accompanying the whole show. His whole body tensed, before it released like a stretched elastic band that had just been let go; his seed flowing down his partners throat. Kakashi drank greedily, his own strokes only growing stronger until he was cumming on the dark blue sheets below him.

The two of them remained stationary, Iruka's head on the pillow, Kakashi's head on Iruka's thigh. Heavy breaths filled the room as both of them tried to get their lungs working at a regularly pace.

Kakashi, always the quicker of the two, was the first to recover. There was really nothing to clean up since Iruka's essence had been taken care of and his own had already sunk into the sheets. Dragging his spent body up, he lay beside Iruka, letting the darkness of exhaustion creep into the corner of his vision.

Before he was totally out, he felt Iruka move, a head of chocolate appearing on his chest before sleep overcame him.

**…**

It was maybe around one in the afternoon when the teacher woke up. They'd probably only been asleep for two hours, but he wasn't a nap kind of guy, usually finding he had too much to plan and to do to warrant a midday snooze. Still, he could be forgiven for taking time off the clock this eventful weekend. In fact, he thought he was entirely entitled to the guilty pleasure of an afternoon rest; the thought making him wonder why he woke up to begin with.

Just as he was about to return to slumber, he noticed a continuous jitter behind him – probably what had woken him to begin with. Through the nap, Iruka had rolled to his side, Kakashi's body melding behind him and his arm encasing him. But what were the jitters?

Dragging himself out of the sleepy daze, he concentrated more on his surroundings to realise that the man behind him was shivering imperceptibly. It was the nervous tick in one of Kakashi’s feet that was shaking the bed though. Even facing the other direction, Iruka could tell the man was anxious, his muscles pulled taut and trembling as though they needed to move, to bolt, to flee, but were being held back. The hand of the arm that was wrapped around his waist was clenching and unclenching, but it did nothing to hide that it too was shaking.

The weight of the situation suddenly became clear to the young teacher.

Their new-found relationship, this blossoming romance, this house they'd started to build, and all other corny titles for their situation, may not make Kakashi's recovery any harder because the challenge at hand was already more complex than Kakashi could handle, too complex maybe even for the both of them. He'd foolishly managed to convince himself that him being there as a friend, being there as support, being there as an anchor would be enough to keep Kakashi afloat, but he was sorely mistaken. He couldn't just be, he had to do.

_ 'Easier said than done.' _

Placing his palm around Kakashi's fisted one, he warmed the rigid hand until it loosened. He slipped his fingers between pale ones, wrapping tight and holding their enclosed hands to his stomach. The leg-shaking ceased, but the shivering only subsided as the taller man let out a breathy sigh on the back of his neck before letting out a whisper.

"I woke you up. Sorry."

"I don't mind. We should get up anyway, I'm starved." Iruka went to disentangle himself but felt Kakashi hold on a little bit tighter. His face buried into his neck as he continued the embrace a few moments longer before letting him go to sit upright.

The younger man turned to face him and saw an empty look in his eyes. He could see it. He could see Kakashi wasn't there with him, he was in another world, in another time. He felt lost himself, completely unsure of what to do.

Leaning over, he caressed a palm over a porcelain jaw, before dropping a chaste kiss on unsuspecting lips. Pulling back, he saw Kakashi blink repeatedly, a little light now in his eye. He was still there, still in that place, but at least Iruka was there with him now.

Foregoing the whispered tones for a volume more appropriate for the time of day, Iruka dragged Kakashi up and towards the kitchen. "Come on! Even if you can't cook, you shouldn't let your guest go hungry." Turning back he saw the shadow of a smile on Kakashi's lips.

He didn't know how yet, but he was going to fix this. Somehow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***  
> The last couple months of uni were extremely hectic and, between writing my dissertation, finishing my exams and moving out of student halls, Under the Influence took a backseat. But all is settled again and I hope you'll all still be with me on this adventure :D  
> ***


	19. Chapter 19

Iruka walked ahead into the kitchen. He headed for the fridge, looking to see if he could make a meal with the available ingredients. He had to wonder how Kakashi ever ate before he came along. The only things in the fridge were the remaining packet of this morning's bacon, a head of broccoli, butter, a bottle of milk (which he thought looked more like cottage cheese), a few eggs and a slightly wrinkled onion. He turned, planning to teasingly scold the man for his dire food supply, but changed his mind when he really looked at him.

Kakashi was sitting on the table in the far right of the room. The teacher noted this with a little disappointment; he'd liked the way Kakashi had sat on the stools by the kitchen island last time; close the stove and close to him. He was vacant behind the eyes, looking off into a corner of the kitchen that held nothing but the recycling bin. In the wooden chair, he was sat upright, back aligned perfectly in a posture that should have been commendable but was so unlike him it was worrying. His arms were crossed over his covered chest, the index finger of his left hand, incessantly tapping on his right elbow.

Turning back to the meager contents of the fridge, he pulled out the bacon, broccoli, onion and milk. He snorted at the expiry date. You would assume that the only reason to keep milk twelve days past the expiry date is because it's been forgotten, but in such an empty fridge Iruka wasn't sure how that was even possible.

Any other time he would waste no time bringing this up, teasing the older man about his dietary neglect, but all conversation skills seemed to elude him. It was strange. Kakashi was never a talkative person, didn't usually trigger topics of discussion, but he was always open to it and the brunette was always happy to provide. But now, the sheer fact the soldier wasn't even looking in his direction, seemingly unaware of his existence, dried up all of Iruka's verbal abilities.

A realisation dawned on the brunette as he pulled out the rice from the third cupboard he checked and headed for the rice cooker. This was the first time he'd been around to see the aftermath of Kakashi's nightmares. All other times he'd gotten over it with alcohol or an orgasm. Neither seemed like plausible routes. The liquor was obviously a no-go and the sex...well, the atmosphere was so stale in the kitchen in that moment, he wasn't even sure how it could be initiated. Even if it could be though, replacing one dependency with another, be it less painful and more pleasurable, was still not an answer to this problem.

Taking the broccoli, he set it on the marble-topped counter Kakashi should have been sitting at, and proceeded to cut it into tiny bits while the rice cooked. He nearly cut a finger finding himself too enraptured by the man at the end of the kitchen. It was clear that whatever it was this time was different to what he usually dreamed about. Last night and the night where he had found him slumped behind the kitchen island, were much worse. He wasn't okay – far from it – but there was an eerie composure this time that was keeping him from flying out the door and hunting for a drink.

A small portion of him wanted to believe that it was getting better, that the closer he got to Kakashi, the further away the demons went, but Iruka wasn't going to kid himself. Of all the times he'd been around the man, this felt like the most distant they had been. Whatever it was that had gotten him into this state of reflection might not be as terrorising as usual, but was nonetheless damaging in what it was doing to him.

Broccoli chopped, he moved onto the wrinkly onion, still wondering what to do. The only thing he could think to do was ask. He couldn't help Kakashi if he didn't know what it was that was haunting him, but the prospect of asking, especially with him being so distant and spacy, was daunting to the younger man.

Taking the bacon, he cut that too, into small square pieces. He heard the click of the rice cooker telling him it was ready and realised he must have been chopping at a snails pace. He did the rest of the meal on autopilot. The bacon made it a budget version of his usual pork fried rice, but with the right flavourings it could easily be a good-quality meal. He opened and closed a few cupboards until he found the one with the seasonings. For someone who had hardly any food, he had a surprisingly good collection of herbs, spices and sauces, all ground and processed, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Paprika, turmeric, soy sauce, sesame oil. He was pleased with that selection, but wanted to see what else this cupboard had to offer. He pushed past the standard white pepper and ground coriander, reaching for a red bottle.

_'Sriracha?!'_

If the kitchen wasn't so silent and awkward, he really would have laughed out loud. Of all the things to find in Kakashi's home, he did not expect this. This bottle brought back so many memories.

**…**

He'd been thirteen and Kakashi seventeen when Teuchi had brought out a new flavour of ramen. He didn't really have a lot of experience with spicy foods, neither Tsunade or Kakashi being a fan, but as a regular at Ichiraku's he couldn't not try it. It was just unfortunate for Kakashi that he wasn't there the first time.

It was one of the rare occasions Tsunade took her nephew. She'd been in the AA nearly six months at this point. Unfortunately that didn't mean six months sober, but she was working on it. Iruka had come home talking animatedly about the new menu item, saying how he couldn't wait for Kakashi to take him.

The boy had sobered slightly when he remembered that it hadn't been long since he'd gotten his green belt. He maybe a had a years worth of training before he could earn the blue belt and there was no way he was waiting that long for ramen. That meant either he had to land a hit on Kakashi during sparring or hope that his sensei was feeling generous. Unfortunately though, the seventeen year old had surprised him with a spontaneous Ichiraku last week and this week they were working on technique only, which meant no sparring. The next Ichiraku would have to be two weeks away!

Tsunade watched in amusement as her nephew slumped on the sofa, lamenting his inability to be one of the first tasters of the new recipe.

Grabbing the house keys, she turned to the sullen kid. "Are you coming or not? This new ramen isn't going to try itself." The warm grin she received was worth enduring the salty noodles she usually avoided.

It was a spicy ramen. The spiciest on their menu, cooked with a blend of various chilli peppers, garlic, distilled vinegar, sugar and salt. It was Teuchi's own take on the Sriracha recipe, sharing the same heat and relish as the popular sauce, but with a distinct Ichiraku's essence. It was love at first bite for Iruka. Despite his watering eyes, his reddened cheeks, his tingling lips and the constant need for sips of water, it was a beautiful taste.

Two weeks later, as predicted, Kakashi was back to Ichiraku with Iruka. He'd heard so much about this new flavoursome dish that even he was looking forward to this trip.

For a soldier in training – less than a year till he would be recruited – the silver-haired teen should have been ashamed of his comfort. He was so at ease in these surroundings, so comfortable with the younger boy at his side, he wasn't prepared for a sneak attack, least of all from the innocent bowl of noodles and broth in front of him. Had he been aware of his surroundings, as a destined military leader should have been, he would have noted the reddening tan cheeks, the wet look behind hazel eyes, the occasional sniffs and deep exhales of breath, he would have known something was amiss. Instead, he dove into his meal as usual. Big mistake.

The first indication of something being wrong was the tingling of lips. His tongue seemed to sizzle with complaint, his throat searing in the wake of the ramen. A strangled choke escaped him, advancing to a deep, raspy cough that had Iruka's eyes widening and his eyebrows reaching for his hairline. Tears streamed down pale cheeks for the first time in years as the coughs shook his ribcage, the unbearable heat unrelenting in its determination to take over his mouth, his throat and his lungs.

After being reassured that Kakashi wasn't going to choke, Iruka collapsed into a fit of laughter, teasing the teen to no end. Suffice to say it was while before Iruka was treated to Ichiraku again. In their two week absence Teuchi had to take down the new recipe item – too many burnt tongue complaints – to Iruka's utter dismay.

The silver-haired boy had felt slightly bad for refusing to go back to the ramen place and consequently making Iruka miss out on the spicy dish. At their next lesson he bought Iruka a bottle of Sriracha as compensation, under the conditions that it was never to come close to his plate again.

**…**

The first indication of something being wrong was the tingle of his lips. It seemed to wake him up from the mist of memories he'd been stuck behind, the heat distracting him from all other thoughts. His throat burned after he swallowed the first bite of the fried rice and he could only look on, wide-eyed at the man across the table, confused at the grin that was threatening to break his face.

The prickling behind his eyes began and he could do nothing to stop the tears that streamed from them. He tried to speak, to question Iruka on why he'd been fed fire but the only thing that escaped was a hacking cough. The heat that was circulating his entire head couldn't have stopped the melodious laughter that reached his ears.

Just like that, he was transported ten years in the past, watching through bleary vision, as though behind a wet window on a stormy night, as his companion tried unsuccessfully to hide his humour. It was only then that it clicked. The familiar burn had only occurred once before and looking across the kitchen, the red bottle with the green top only confirmed his suspicions.

He was handed water and gulped it in earnest, watching Iruka through the distorted image of the glass as he switched their bowls of rice. It took a while for the heat to subside enough for him to gain his senses. Wiping his cheeks with his forearm, darkening the fabric from grey to a damp black, he tried to get his words out, but was beaten to it by Iruka.

There was still humour in his voice but there was a hint of nervousness there too that had him biting the lips that were trying to curl up. "S-sorry Kakashi. I just...I saw the Sriracha and I couldn't help myself when I remembered that time at Ichiraku's. Umm...you okay?"

"I'm f-" another series of coughs cut his sentence. He couldn't say he was angry; Iruka had pulled too many pranks on him over their time together for him to be anything but mildly annoyed. He would have thought his mischievous streak would have died down at the age of twenty-three, but apparently not. Slightly throbbing lips couldn't help but smirk at that.

The rest of their lunch went by relatively smoothly; his actual bowl of rice was delicious – flavor without the pain. How Iruka could handle it, he could only wonder. Thoughts of that particular ramen trip, and other memorable ones, filled his mind pushing back the ones that had been haunting him previously.

**…**

Iruka stood beside Kakashi, watching as he made quick work of washing the dishes. Whatever was weighing down the atmosphere in the kitchen seemed to have left momentarily, leaving the two men in a relaxed state. It was nice. The domesticity of it all was soothing and Iruka knew bringing up the unspoken would add ripples to the calm that had descended, but ignoring the monster that lay beneath the surface would only come to bite them in the future. As Kakashi rinsed a bowl, he cleared his throat and prepared for what would undoubtedly be an uncomfortable conversation.

"We should talk about it." His statement seemingly went unnoticed, but Iruka had seen the two-second falter in Kakashi's scrubbing and seen the slight tension of shoulders. "If you're not going to talk about this at AA at least talk about it with me."

Kakashi sighed as he rinsed a bowl and placed it onto the drying rack. "What help would it do?"

"I don't know, but it's got to be better than keeping it bottled up, right?" Iruka looked on as Kakashi rinsed the last pair of chopsticks. He rubbed his scar nervously as the older man wiped the edges of the sink, still silent and unanswering.

Drying off his hands, Kakashi stepped away from the sink and made his way to the kitchen door leaving a dejected Iruka to lean against the counter, biting his lip as he thought of what to say next. As the silver-haired man entered the corridor, he felt slightly desperate, seeing his opportunity slip away.

"Please Ka-"

"We should go to the living room. I don't know about you, but I'm going to need to sit down."

They sat on the black leather sofa, Iruka with his legs folded underneath him in the direction of his companion. Kakashi was beside him, his back as rigid as it been at the kitchen table, his clammy palms smoothing back and forth over the cotton material at his knees. Iruka stayed quiet. It was enough that Kakashi had agreed to talk; he was going to let him take his time. However, when it had been about five minutes, the low murmur of some mediocre television still being the only sound, he reached out to the closest pale hand to him, entwining it with his own.

**…**

Kakashi looked at their connected hands, then at Iruka out of the corner of his dark eye. He knew what the problem was, knew precisely why he had started drinking...why he needed to. But how exactly would he tell Iruka about it? How could he tell this man who'd he'd cared about since he was a boy that, of his own volition, under his watch and his leadership, he had allowed two of his closest friends to die? When the memories replayed and the images stuck, when it all flooded back like he was right there on the battlefield, he couldn't stand himself. He couldn't tolerate his own existence knowing what he'd done, so how the hell could he expect Iruka to?

They were at a good point, the two of them, and he wanted to keep it that way. He wanted this same closeness, maybe not all the time, the school and his teaching wouldn't allow it, but as much as he could, he wanted to feel the younger man's warmth beside him and around him. There would be no reason for Iruka to ever stay if he found out about what he'd done and what he was. As a soldier, he'd held people's lives in the palm of his hand, he'd had the responsibility to ensure the hearts of his comrades continued to beat, but he'd failed the two hearts closest to him. What reason would Iruka have to ever trust him if he knew that?

No, he would wait it out. He would tell the man eventually, perhaps when this raw relationship has had time to ripen into something firmer, perhaps when he has gained Iruka's trust enough that his past failures will not deter the younger man.

"Kakashi." Iruka's whisper drew him out of his musings. He squeezed the tan hand clasped in his own, asking for another few minutes to get his head together. Iruka’s  fingers squeezed back, ever patient, filling Kakashi with guilt at the thought that he was, maybe not lying, but deliberately choosing to bypass the truth. Despite the guilt, he let out a deep sigh, ready to open up even if it was only going to scratch the surface of the mountain of problems that were his life.

"It's the anniversary of my father's death in a week's time."

**…**

The brunette felt his blood run slightly cold. This was the first time Kakashi had ever mentioned any of his family members, let alone his father. His sensei was always a nonchalant and mellow kid but Iruka noticed he would fold even further into himself, becoming dispassionate and cold a few days a year. They spent enough time around each other that he knew something was wrong but when asked, Kakashi would avoid the question, bouncing back to his usual cool at their next lesson or the one after that.

It took four years of the same occurrence for Iruka to seek answers. It was entirely too long, but at eight and nine he wasn't really perceptive enough to connect the dots. Sarutobi-sensei, after his nagging and pestering, had told him of Kakashi's father's suicide. He gave no details and Iruka didn't ask for any, his twelve-year-old psyche unable to comprehend the feeling of losing a parent because of a decision they had made themselves. Only then had he tried to broach the subject, the crippling obsidian glare and abrupt end to their lesson making him never attempt it again.

He knew it didn’t get any easier. The ghosts of his parents were never far from his mind but the anniversary of the their death was always the hardest. But Kakashi had been dealing with this for sixteen years now. There had to be more to his current state of depression.. Still, he held a pale hand, nodding somberly in a silent urge to continue. When he didn't, Iruka probed on with a murmur.

"Is that what your nightmares have been about?" To his relief, Kakashi answered just after clearing his throat.

"I never saw it. I wasn't at home at the time. I'd usually train with him, sometimes karate other times just general defence or attacks in battle, but a few weeks before he...before he died, he introduced me to Minato, the then leader of the Konoha Army. I was so excited to be getting trained by such a skilled soldier I didn't question why my father was suddenly handing all responsibilities over to the General. It was him who broke the news to me. He was careful about it. As careful as you could be but, he couldn't stop word getting out.

"It was all over the papers in graphic detail. I don't know why I read them. Maybe...I don't know, maybe I was trying to understand it, trying to look for the reason he would make that decision. How he could make that decision? The last paper I read disclosed photos of our living room afterwards. It's kinda funny how I was never allowed shoes on that cream carpet but his blood ended up all over the thing." A bitter scoff left the silver-haired man as his eye glazed over with the memory, unshed tears resting in the corner.

Kakashi stopped for a few minutes, his head turning towards the balcony but his closed eyes unseeing of the the sun casting an orange glow on the Saturday afternoon below. His breathing seemed strained and the fisted palm of his unoccupied hand confirmed it. Iruka could feel the prickling behind his eyes, struggling to watch a person he cherished in pain. He brought his other hand to their joined pair, stroking pale knuckles until Kakashi was ready to continue.

"They wrote about it with so much detail I could picture it. No matter how much I tried to forget it all, I could imagine it like I was there. I still can." The last sentence was barely a whisper but Iruka caught it, having his question answered, at least partially.

He could see it. He could see in the way that Kakashi's knee was lifting and dropping repeatedly, in the way his eye was flitting about the room, falling anywhere but him. There was more to this than the older man was letting on. But the teacher didn't voice this. He had gotten more out Kakashi than he ever thought he would – probably more than anybody had before – so he wouldn't push it.

Leaning towards him, Iruka placed a kiss upon Kakashi's temple as he done to him several times, his hand resting upon the opposite cheek. They settled into the sofa, an unruly silver mop making itself comfortable on Iruka's lap, as tan fingers carded through it, a brassy game show only a slight distraction to the peace that had settled between them.

Nothing more needed to be said, for now.

  **…**

"Just slice the skin off the ginger, you only need the tiniest amount. I promise you it will make a difference to your stir fry. A manual grater will do, and about a teaspoon should add that kick to-"

Neither of them had bothered to touch the remote, leaving the shows to flitter through, an early evening cooking show the first one to grab Iruka's attention.

"Hey!" Kakashi had been calmly rested, not asleep but not entirely conscious, when Iruka's call had startled him. He looked up from his position on the man's lap, a questioning eyebrow telling him to go on, though slightly wary of the younger man's grin.

"You never told me why you had Sriracha in your cupboard to begin with!" His melodious laughter embarrassed Kakashi slightly, remembering how he had snivelled through the majority of their meal.

"Gai was convinced that I needed some spices and seasonings in my kitchen, to give my food a 'youthful kick', so he bought all that stuff for me. The Sriracha reminded me of that time and I didn't have the heart to throw it away so I just shoved in the back. I regret that now." His glare was only playful but it brought Iruka's chuckles down to a cheeky grin.

"I said I was sorry!"

"And I never said I forgave you. You deserve to be punished for that." The way his voice dropped an octave lower, the predatory glint in his eye promising something devious and delicious, had a spike of lust slicing through their playful banter, but the emotional exhaustion of the day let the moment peter away to nothing but a heated promise for later. Carding his fingers through silver locks once more, Iruka settled into the sofa, watching as the cook moved on to a cheesecake recipe, calm and content with their lazy Saturday afternoon.

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

Kakashi brushed away the beefy remains of their evening take-out, the minty freshness of his toothpaste replacing it. He passed the brush over his teeth as he assessed his skin in the mirror. It wasn't the porcelain perfection it used to be, but it was amazing the effect a few days of real food could have. He mused that it was probably more to do with the extraction of alcohol rather than the addition of a few veggies, but either way he was pleased with the improvement.

As he eyed the bags under his eyes that refused to budge, he caught sight of Iruka in the mirror, hovering in the doorway, already ready for bed.

"You can go ahead and sleep if you want. It's already past midnight and today was quite strenuous." The silver-haired man spoke with a toothbrush pushed against the edge of his lip, chuckling at the sarcasm; the most strenuous activity having been the walk to the door to pay the delivery guy.

He watched as Iruka sheepishly laughed, rubbing at his scar. By now Kakashi had deduced that the gesture meant either the younger man was nervous, worried or had something to say – all of which had him furrowing silver brows.

"What's up?"

"Umm, nothing…It's just, I think I should...I kinda have to go home tomorrow. I have a ton of marking to do for Monday and Tuesday, and I still need to annotate the next chapter of Lord of the Flies to scan for my older class and do the week’s lesson plans. But...well, I guess I can do those throughout the week in my lunches and free periods. And I guess I could mark the papers here. So...really I just need to go home to get the papers and I can come back."

Iruka finished his ramblings mostly out of breath, still looking slightly nervous as he stood in the doorway. It was obvious that the teacher felt bad about leaving Kakashi alone. The older man wasn't sure if he'd ever felt like such an invalid. But, if he really thought about it, that's what he was. He couldn't even sleep without waking up covered in sweat in a disoriented state, needing something...someone...Iruka to break him out of it.

Was he that damaged that Iruka was willing to take time away from his work – work that he adored if the amount he talked about it was any indication – to look after him? He knew the answer to that was probably yes and part of him wanted that. He wanted Iruka there when he woke up. He wanted Iruka to pull a dumb prank or start a pointless conversation to drag him away from his memories and keep him away from them. But, wasn't that him being selfish? If not, then it was at least him being needy and clingy.

Kakashi Hatake would describe himself as many things, a terrible soldier, a disastrous leader, an awful friend but he was going to draw the line at selfish, clingy and needy.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'll drive you back to your car after breakfast." Rinsing his mouth, he noted the raising of brown eyebrows as Iruka seemed to not anticipate such a smooth conclusion to his request.

The two of them settled in under the covers, the warm night not deterring them from tangling a few limbs together. Iruka initiated a few lingering kisses, the last of which deepened to the stage where Kakashi almost lost himself in it. Almost. He had to stay alert and stay awake. Pulling away slightly, he held Iruka against him at his chest and evened out his breathing till he appeared to be asleep.

Staying awake meant avoiding the nightmares. He'd be so groggy in the morning, but at least he wouldn't be a shivering mess. Iruka would see he was fine and not feel guilty about leaving him to do his work. It was the only way.

**…**

It seemed to be the morning tradition for Iruka to wake up alone, the plump pillows his only companion in the wide bed he'd become so accustomed to. Climbing out from the comfort, he padded across the floor, first peeking into the bathroom. He knew there wouldn't be, but he still felt a sweep of relief at seeing the toilet, free of a sickly soldier around it. There was no burning bacon in the kitchen so Iruka shuffled to the living room, opening the door to reveal the man he'd been looking for. Kakashi was sat on the sofa, seemingly showered and dressed, as some monotonous morning programme played on the television.

"Hey." A silver head spun to face him, a smile his only reply. "You look like you've been awake a while."

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep anymore."

"Oh." The teacher left it at that. He himself was still tired. It was only just reaching nine after all. Even in his morning fatigue, he could see the slight light pink in the white of Kakashi's eye and the darker shade of the bags that hung under them. Before he had the chance to ponder the disparity between Kakashi's words and his appearance, the older man spoke up.

"I was thinking, if you want to go, I know a nice café downtown that does a great breakfast."

Iruka felt a smile widen across his face. He was slightly surprised by the tiny butterflies that swirled in his stomach at the thought of the two of them sat opposite each other over a coffee. The adolescent sensation had him blushing faintly as he agreed before heading to the shower. It kind of felt like they were going out to their first date and the excitement of that bubbled in the brunette the entire morning.

He wasn't disappointed. Not in the slightest. The café was more than nice, as Kakashi had minimally described it. In its Parisian inspired decor, it was much more than just nice.

The sun wasn't at it's highest point in the sky, but the day was crisp and the air was still around the two men as they sat on the patio across from each other on metal chairs painted cream with filigree carvings that mirrored the circular table between them.

If official first dates could be found in some sort of instruction manual for relationships, theirs would in there. Everything was perfection, from the hanging baskets of flowers above them, to the hearts created in their cappuccino's by a skilled barista. Even the pretty waitress who blushed knowingly when Kakashi removed some cream from the corner of Iruka's mouth with his finger, only to lick it himself, added to perfection of the morning.

As they drove towards the school where Iruka would get his car, the younger man couldn't keep down the smile on his face. He wondered momentarily if this is what it would have been like if he and Kakashi had gotten together under normal circumstances; without the army and the alcohol and his aunt making the process difficult. It was saddening if he pondered it for too long. Everything was just so complicated. A normal relationship would be so much easier.

He wouldn't have anyone else though. It would be worth it in the end and things were already getting better. Looking at his boyfriend in the driver's seat, Iruka's smile only widened. Yeah, this man was worth it all.

**…**

As Kakashi parked his car, he looked over at the brunette beside him. He was proud of himself, beyond proud actually. He'd managed to keep that warm smile on Iruka's face the entire morning, even achieving more blushes than he usually did. But it was bittersweet to know he could make this man happy, to know he was responsible for that smile, but that, more often than not, he caused a frown, he caused him to worry.

"Thanks for breakfast Kakashi. I never have any excuse to go to fancy little places like that just for breakfast. You do know we'll have to go back, right? I have to try those pastries and there were at least six things from the lunch menu I have to order at least once. Can we?" Hazel eyes were as bright as his grin as Iruka thought about all the little delicacies in the café.

"Sure. It's a date." He couldn't help the smirk on his lips as a soft pink creeped on Iruka's cheeks. "You should get going, all that work isn't going to mark itself."

"I know," Iruka sighed, looking out of the windscreen, his car the only other in the deserted school parking. "I'll be home before one. I think I can get a large chunk of it done by like five. I can bring dinner round and-"

"No, Iruka." He pinned the brunette with a solid stare that told him the decision had been made. "I can survive a few meals without you. You've already wasted most of the weekend with me, you should concentrate on your brats for a while." Kakashi gave a small smile, but it wasn't matched by his companion.

He met his eyes after a moment with a low tone, it's seriousness leaving no room for doubt. "It wasn't a waste. I wanted to be there...with you."

Even if Iruka didn't think so, Kakashi knew that this man's time would be better spent elsewhere. Still, it warmed him to his very bones to know that he deemed him worthy of it.

Reaching over to the other seat, he cupped Iruka's cheek, drawing him into a kiss. He couldn't tell whose tongue he could taste the coffee from, but why ponder on that when said tongues were now one. A hand sneaked into silver locks, fingertips grazing lightly at the scalp eliciting a shiver from the driver. If Kakashi didn't stop at this point somebody would end up straddled in a car in the car park of a school on a Sunday.

Pulling away, but only so far as to disconnect their lips, touching their foreheads together instead, the two men stayed like that for a moment longer, Iruka with his fingers still dug in the silver crop and Kakashi still cupping a tan cheek. Their breaths intermingled a bit longer before Kakashi dropped a chaste parting kiss.

The ride home was quiet but quick. He had one destination and it was surprising he even had time to remove his shoes before he dove into bed. The soldier had a few minutes to muse that he used to endure thirty-six-hour stakeouts without a problem before he cocooned himself in sheets that guided him to slumber.

**…**

It was a sorry sight really, seeing a grown man with sweat droplets on his forehead and his fisted hands shaking in the sheets below him. It was a sight more common on a seven-year-old. One with an overactive imagination and an inability to believe there weren't monsters under his bed. Kakashi may have been twenty years older, but his imagination was no less creative, never failing to find a new way to portray Rin and Obito's corpses, never failing to give them a new dialogue that was always as hard-hitting and guilt-inducing as the other, never failing to bring him to the brink of sanity.

With jittery legs, he pulled himself from his bed before he realised he had nowhere to go. He couldn't eat. He felt sick as it was. Seeing your friends die before your eyes, their blood on your hands, can do that. The living room was also out of the question. Nothing on the television would replace the vision of their bodies strewn on the battlefield, and he could hardly sit down in the comfort of his sofa knowing the most he deserved was the comfort of a coffin.

Turning on the shower he stood underneath the spray, the water scalding and the steam billowing around him in a mist, but it did nothing to shield his shaking frame. Kakashi scrubbed. He scrubbed and he scrubbed until every inch of his skin was squeaky. He scrubbed until the skin at his forearms and the back of his hands were reddening in mimicry of the blood of his fallen comrades that had clung to him in his failed attempts to resuscitate them.

To forget. That's all he wanted. To forget who he was and what he'd done and, a few weeks previously, he would have wasted no time in purchasing the liquor that would help him do just that. There were other ways though. Other ways to occupy the time spent brooding on the past, other ways to busy oneself and fool the mind into pushing back the memories, if only for a short while. It's just a shame they were never as effective as the bottle.

Turning off the shower, he proceeded to dry and dress, wasting no time so he could reach his desired destination in double-quick time. Despite his best efforts, his eyes lingered on the shops and the supermarkets, the corner stores and the wineries he drove past, his brain taking in the special offers and buy one get one free's he noticed. But, he drove on, not stopping or veering off at the tantalising promise of imported liqueurs or the purest triple-distilled vodka.

He jumped straight out of the car once he reached Gai's dojo, grateful that his never-resting friend was still open at past seven in the evening. Thankfully, all students seemed to have headed home, leaving Gai in the centre of the brightly lit hall mumbling numbers in their hundreds as he compressed into his one-armed push ups. Kakashi waited quietly on the sidelines, knowing his friend would have a set goal of push ups he wanted to achieve and would berate himself if he didn't reach it.

He didn't wait long before the dark-haired man switched to a sit-up position. Before he started another hundred, or thousand knowing Gai, Kakashi stepped out of the shadows, his voice steady as he approached his friend, despite the shaking hands that were in his pockets.

"Gai." The man in question stopped mid crunch, jumping up to greet his friend with a feverish handshake, which was dropped instead for a warm bear hug. The dojo master said nothing about the slight flinch or tremors in his friends frame.

"Kakashi! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I thought we could finally have that rematch you wanted."

The two men had been sparring partners while Kakashi had been in the army. Although Gai never entered battle, instead using his skills to teach new soldiers and keep the veterans on their toes, the two were equally matched, creating a healthy rivalry as they always fought to see which way the scales tipped on any particular day.

It had been a while though. The last time they had sparred had been before Kakashi left for the mission to destroy Kannabi Bridge. The rest of the war also left little time for dojo play and since Kakashi had been dismissed, he had never accepted Gai's offers for a rematch.

If the pale man was really in this for the sparring, he would have realised that his technique was wrong, his footing was off, his fists were misguided and his balance was off-kilter. He would also have noticed that Gai was holding back, moving out of his strikes with ease and throwing his own in places that could be easily blocked. The elegance and finesse that usually signified Kakashi's fighting style was completely absent as he fought with anger and instinct.

They were drenched with sweat over an hour later as Kakashi was brought down by a simple sweeping kick he should have jumped over. He lay on his back, resting his eyes for a few minutes as he caught his breath, trying not to think too much about how he had won their last spar after going at it for nearly three hours. He only partially listened to Gai's ramblings as he got up from the floor. The man's excited words only seemed to blend into the background as he was followed back to his vehicle with a parting hug and a promise for a rematch.

He was still trying to regulate his breathing as he drove away, his muscles complaining at being pushed to their limit when they had been at rest for so long. His head was pounding and fatigue was setting into his body as he parked outside his apartment. Hunching forward onto the steering wheel, he closed his eyes seeing the only image that had been behind his eyelids since he woke up.

Today just proved it. It just proved what a failure he was. Maybe if he had been better in combat or maybe if he had Gai's speed, his lapse in judgement wouldn't have mattered. He would still have reached Rin and Obito late, but he would have had enough skill to turn the battle round. He could have saved them. There was a move Gai had used today. Kakashi couldn't really remember how it went, but it had caught him off guard and spun him in the opposite direction, leaving him a few feet away for at least twenty seconds. Maybe that would have been enough. Maybe then he could have saved them. Maybe.

His mind was running a mile a minute, playing scenarios out where he would do things differently, but each and every time it would end with his friends lying in a sticky red pool of Kakashi’s failings.

Running his hands across his face and through his hair, he tried to clear his mind but, as usual, he had no control over the memories. Reaching for the car keys, he wanted to pull them out and head inside. There was no point suffering out here when he could just as easily suffer in the comfort of his home. He didn't take them out though. He turned them instead, hearing the engine roar into life as he peeled out of the car park. Why suffer at all?

There was a good deal on gin not too far from here if he remembered correctly.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> * Double-update when inspiration strikes! *

As the stragglers from Iruka's previous class started to mingle with the early birds from his ten o'clock class, he looked again at his phone. He'd been trying to gauge all morning when the best time to call Kakashi would be. He didn't want to wake the man up, but at the same time he wanted to talk to the man when he'd just woken up. The idea of the older man being in that post-dream state – haunted, disoriented and alone – was enough to make the decision for the teacher.

After writing the page numbers he wanted his class to start reading on the board, he squeezed past the kids still coming into class, walking till he found an empty corridor.

The phone rang and it rang until Iruka was sure it would go to voicemail, but at the last minute a hoarse voice answered.

  **…**

It was kind of nostalgic for Kakashi, being wrapped around his porcelain bowl as he was. He noted that he was being sick for longer than usual. It was probably because his stomach had been fooled into a false sense of security over the past week and was rebelling extra hard for its recent mistreatment. He couldn't blame it really, he had taken it a bit too far the night before, drinking more than he needed to mist his conscience, drinking more than he needed to mask his memories.

If you asked him why, he would probably shrug a shoulder and play it off as something that had just happened, but in reality he knew what he'd been doing. He knew, when he forfeited the tonic for straight gin, that this would be the effect. He knew, when Rin and Obito were the furthest thing from his mind and his vision started to swim taking him a few efforts to locate which of the three floating glasses was the real one, that he'd had enough. But he carried on. He carried on because he'd missed the burn of his throat. He'd missed the warmth in his gut that normal people got from a hot chocolate on a cold night or steaming coffee on a chilly morning.

It might just have been the familiarity of it all because, on reflection, he didn't feel so warm on the chilly bathroom tiles. He no longer enjoyed the burn of his throat when it was going in the opposite direction.

When he seemed to have purged every drop in his stomach, he got up off the floor, flushed the toilet and stumbled back to his room; his aching head was screaming to be laid down. As he crossed the threshold into his bedroom, he heard the jingle of his ringtone, the knock of the vibrations on the bedside table calling attention to its location. He would have answered it straight away – the noise was exacerbating his headache – but it took him a while to stagger there.

"He-" he coughed, realising his voice was almost non-existent. "Hello". Not much better but at least it was decipherable.

_"K-Kakashi? Is that you? You don't sound well. Are you okay?"_ The concern practically poured through the phone wrapping Kakashi in a blanket of guilt that made him wince. Why did he not think to check the caller i.d?

"Yeah." He cleared his throat yet again, trying to ignore the way his throat felt like sandpaper. "I'm okay, just woke up is all. How are you?"

_"I-I'm okay, I just thought I'd call to see how you are. And I thought maybe I could come by after work, maybe bring some Ichiraku...are you sure you're alright?"_

"Yeah yeah don't worry about me, just morning grogginess. I'd love for you to come round but I'd made plans to meet up with Gai later and, knowing him, he'll drag to dinner after. Raincheck?"

_"Oh. Oh yeah, sure. Raincheck."_

"Hey, I can ask him to reschedule if you want. I can see him anytime, after all."

_"What? No, no that's fine. You can see me anytime too."_ Kakashi inwardly sighed, thankful that Iruka hadn't called his bluff. _"Actually...I have a free period after my lunch break tomorrow, if you wanna make good on that promise of a date."_

"Yeah...we'll see."

_"Uh, yeah, we'll…see. I should go, I left a class unattended. You should probably drink some tea, you sound like you have a sore throat coming on."_

 Kakashi winced, running his hands through his tangled tresses. He'd lied to people before – white lies that usually eased a situation or aided cooperation – but never before had it made him feel like his insides were rotten.

"Y-yeah, you're right. I'll talk to you later."

_"Bye Kakashi."_

The hungover man hung up the phone before crawling back under his covers. His arms came up over his eyes as he tried to will away the dread gripping at his sides. He could say categorically that Iruka was the single best thing in his life at the moment, the only thing he looked forward to and the only thing he had and wanted to keep.

And that's exactly why this was necessary.

**…**

Iruka looked at the phone in his hand for a couple of minutes after Kakashi had hung up. He felt a pang of something as he analysed the phone call he'd just had. It wasn't just the disappointment at having his dinner idea turned down or the slight hurt at the absolute lack of enthusiasm for his lunch idea for tomorrow.

The obvious came to mind but...no. No, it couldn't be. Yes, Kakashi's voice was hoarser than usual and his demeanor was colder than he'd heard it before, but he'd just woken up hadn't he?

Walking back into his classroom, he tamed the mayhem that had inevitably ensued. The high that he'd arrived to school on had plummeted to nothing as the worry began to rise. Now that the idea was in his mind he couldn't shake it and the thought made him feel sick. Things were going well, weren't they? Kakashi was just beginning to open up to him, they'd just reached a stage of understanding what it was was between them. Things were going well. So why couldn't he shake this feeling of impending doom?

**…**

When Kakashi woke up six hours later at just past four in the afternoon, he was surprised he'd slept so long in what he'd thought would only be a nap. He was more surprised though, that it was such a calm awakening. Yes, his head was still pounding and his stomach was churning, but he wasn't sweating profusely. His hands weren't shaking and his heart wasn't racing. There were no tears prickling behind his eyes and he didn't feel like he understood his father. He didn't know why he was so surprised – the bottle was as effective as ever.

But, now that he was less hungover, the conversation with Iruka stuck in his mind and the guilt from earlier wrapped back around him tighter than before. He must have sounded like an absolute jerk but, fortunately, he had an idea of how to make it better.

He was going to be the best boyfriend. Iruka deserved no less. Kakashi was convinced that his self-medication would be only help him be that. He could sort himself out. The nightmares were curbed easily enough and, with the alcohol doing that job instead of Iruka, the teacher wouldn't have to be his therapist or nanny.

If he played his cards right, the two of them could have a nice, normal relationship.

**…**

It was ten the next morning and Iruka was once again looking for an empty corridor, knowing well that the class he'd left unattended would probably be swinging from the roof by now. That would have to wait though. The brunette had barely slept the night before. The more he thought about it, Kakashi had sounded far from himself and, as much as he wanted to deny it, as much as he believed things were going on the right path, a relapse wasn't out of the question.

He'd been so close to driving to Kakashi's last night but, what if he was okay? What if he really had just woken up and was meeting Gai that day. If he'd gone over it would have been as good as accusing him of lying. He wanted to trust Kakashi, wanted Kakashi to know he had Iruka’s trust.

But then, as the night had progressed and his mind had continued to whir, he started to doubt his own convictions. Yes he trusted Kakashi. He trusted the Kakashi he'd known when he was younger and he trusted the sober Kakashi he knew today, but what of a Kakashi under the influence? He didn't know that man and he had no reason to believe he wouldn't lie. Hadn't his aunt lied to him on a few occasions? Little lies to hide her boozy secret, like where she was or what time she was finishing work, so she could continue under the pretense of normality.

He called Kakashi's number and listened to the ring until he was sure it would go to voicemail. But this time it actually did. If he thought he'd been worried before, Iruka had been sorely mistaken. He stood in the corridor a few minutes longer, calling once more just incase the call had been missed, but after hearing the automated voicemail again, he walked back to his classroom, biting his lip as he went.

His thoughts continued to stray away from Lord of the Flies to a certain silver-haired soldier. Anxiety dripped off the teacher, evident even to his students, but he was too preoccupied with his worry to remedy his lackluster teaching skills.

He had to go see him. As soon as this class was over, he had to go see him and, like some of his students, he was watching the clock, willing the remaining minutes to fly and the bell to ring for lunch. When it finally did he packed up quicker than his kids, locating his essentials before he headed out the door, oblivious to the confused looks of his students.

He'd just yanked the door open, and flown round the corner only to run straight into a soft wall. He didn't fall, thankfully, but staggered back slightly before looking up to see a sight he wasn't expecting.

"Maa Iruka, why the rush? Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"K-Kakashi?! Why are you...what are you doing here?"

"Did you forget our lunch date? I'm hurt Iruka." The teacher in question watched as his boyfriend feigned disappointment, the smirk that followed doing strange things to his insides as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"You only have two hours, right? We should go." Iruka looked at the hands Kakashi had joined as he was ushered to the car park. "You drive?" He numbly nodded, moving to his car as the silver-haired man got in the passenger seat. 

**…**

It was a good thing Iruka was still in shock from his impromptu visit. Kakashi had been worried he'd be questioned on his reluctance to drive, but thankfully the element of surprise seemed to have slowed Iruka's responses.

He was entirely sure his speech could pass as sober, but if his driving skills were analysed and compared, he was worried the differences would be obvious. It hadn't been his intention to drink before his date, but when he'd woken up that morning with corpses behind his eyes and Obito's last words ringing in his ears, he'd had to control himself.

It was a silly mistake really – he should have preemptively drank before he slept.

It was fine now though, the gin was swimming in him, buzzing his insides in a merry way, his war crimes were pushed to the furthest recesses of his mind and, best of all, he was in the company of an amazing man.

**…**

On such a sunny afternoon it wasn't surprising that the outdoor seating was full. It wasn't too disappointing though, Iruka had enviously looked at the cosy booths inside on their last visit to the café, and was now admiring the abstract rectangles and circles in the embrace of the two lovers in the painting on the wall of one of those very booths. It was one of the teacher's personal favourites, remembering how a copy had hung in his parent's bedroom.

"It's nice." Iruka eyes were pulled from the painting at Kakashi’s voice, and he'd realised he'd been staring at it.

"It's called The Kiss, by Gustav Klimt. My dad got it for my mum when they first started dating."

"Oh yeah, you're dad was an artist right. No, was it an art teacher? Something like that."

Iruka was slightly wide-eyed. "Yeah kinda, he was a Fine Arts professor. I can't believe you remembered that, I don't even remember mentioning it."

Kakashi smiled but said no more. Now that the brunette's attention was drawn back to the man before him, he found himself back in his previous state of worry. His mind tracked back to what he'd been feeling before he left class and he sat back, analysing the Kakashi in front of him. He seemed normal enough and Iruka found that he felt guilty looking for something wrong in the man before him.

A waitress came by putting a pause on his scrutiny as they ordered their lunch and coffees.

"You're really quiet. You okay?"

Iruka contemplated how to answer the question. He was fine, he just wasn't sure whether Kakashi was. "Sorry I just...I guess I'm a bit surprised we're out right now. You didn't sound like yourself yesterday and I was pretty worried."

"Yeah sorry about that. I guess I'd just woken up on the wrong side of the bed."

"Did you…" Iruka stopped, choosing his words carefully. He knew how Kakashi usually tensed up when the topic was brought up. "Was it because of another nightmare?"

There was a moment of silence and the teacher inwardly winced. Maybe he should have been more tactical in his approach. But then again, skirting an obvious issue when they'd come so far wasn't a good idea. Looking at Kakashi though, his brows weren't furrowed, and his eyes weren't haunted. His hands were steady as he sipped on the hazelnut latte that had just been brought to the table. No, that couldn’t be it; he was too calm for this to be about the nightmares that rendered him catatonic.

"Yeah, that was it. Sorry if I sounded a little off, you know how I am after waking up."

Iruka was floored. He knew his jaw was slack and his eyes had widened and he barely registered his lunch being placed before him. He watched as Kakashi bit into his brie and prosciutto baguette and felt like he was looking at a doppelganger. This person looked like Kakashi, had his airs and graces, but everything was wrong.

Kakashi was naturally a very at-ease person, he was suave and composed but, not unaffected. Any mention of his nightmares usually had him tense and desperate to avoid the conversation, but here he'd just shrugged it off like it was nothing. Something was so wrong and the suspicions rising in the pit of Iruka's stomach made his spinach and ricotta tortellini less than appetising.

**…**

Kakashi had just finished the first half of his baguette before he realised Iruka had barely touched his food. He looked on as the man toyed with his fork for a few minutes before raising a single tortellini to his lips. The older man frowned at the thought that Iruka may not be enjoying the date, but then again, it was a different cuisine to the norm.

"You okay? Is it not that good."

"Uh no, no it's really good." Shrugging, the silver-haired man turned his attention back to his sandwich. He'd made a great choice. He had been worried the little café would have a cheap brie but it was matured to perfection, complementing the prosciutto delightfully.

"Are you okay Kakashi?" Looking up, chocolate eyes were trained on him.

Blinking, he nodded in the affirmative, confused by the question. A sliver of worry passed him momentarily at the thought that Iruka knew, but he pushed that away. He was acting as he usually would, he had brushed his teeth three times and swilled enough mouthwash to make sure every trace of alcohol was removed from his tongue. No, Iruka couldn't know. Returning to his beautiful baguette, Kakashi let the time fly until they were back in the car.

After securing his seatbelt, the older man wondered why they weren't going anywhere. "Iruka are-"

"You wouldn't lie to me would you, Kakashi?" The question had him spinning to face the driver. He may have spun a bit too quickly but he blinked a few times to clear the haze. Tan fingers had a tight grip on the steering wheel and, even though they were still parked, his eyes were trained on the pavement ahead of them. Could he have found out that he wasn't sparring with Gai yesterday? Being silent any longer would probably be suspicious so Kakashi went for the safest answer.

"No...why would you ask that?"

Still facing away, Iruka asked a question that had Kakashi's blood running cold and every nerve in his being eager to flee. "Have you been drinking."

He thought he'd done so well! He tried to think whether there was any point in the meal where he had given it away; slurred a few words or stumbled in his steps. But, no, he'd been every bit the responsible adult, acting just as he normally would. There was no way Iruka could be sure. If he was, the younger man would have no reason to ask. Kakashi decided to use this uncertainty to his advantage.

"I haven't. Why...What made you think that I had?"

For the first time since the start of the date, hazel eyes met his own in a deep stare. The soldier felt like those eyes were trying to see deeper than his skin, past his muscles and his bones to every single atom that formed him. But they must not have found anything because Iruka sighed, looking away. Kakashi inwardly sighed too.

"You're acting strange Kakashi. I'm just...I was just worried you may have relapsed." The silver-haired man could hear the anguish laced in Iruka's voice and, more than anything, he wanted to dispel that worry.

Reaching over as he'd done two days prior, he cupped Iruka's cheeks, his palms caressing the soft skin. "I'm fine, Iruka. I'm fine." He whispered but, having pulled the man close, he knew he'd been heard. Moving closer, he attempted to join their lips but a hand on his chest stopped him short.

"Promise me. Just...promise me if you're not fine, if you're not okay, you'll tell me."

Kakashi felt himself nod numbly under the pained gaze he received. Was lying really worth it? He was doing it for them, wasn't he? If there would ever be any chance of them having a normal relationship, this would be it. The only mistake he made was allowing Iruka to see him like that in the first place. His past and his future were two different universes. If he wanted to maintain one he'd have to make sure the other was as far away as possible. 

Why then was he unable to hold Iruka's eyes? Why was the same shame he'd felt when he'd abandoned his tearful fourteen-year old student simmering within him now?

A pair of soft lips landed on his in a sweet kiss before the driver turned the ignition on. Settling back into the passenger seat, Kakashi tried to enjoy the buzz that was still swimming through his veins but he didn't feel as merry as before.

**…**

Iruka stopped once he got to the school's main doors and turned to the man beside him. The ride there had been silent, as had been much of the meal and he couldn't help but feel it was his fault. His suspicions had consumed every moment of thought, when he should have been enjoying Kakashi's company. Even worse, he'd made unfounded accusations based on nothing but his instinct. Granted, his instinct had rarely steered him wrong before, but he felt ashamed to have trusted it over the man standing before him now.

"Thanks for taking me for lunch. I'm sorry I wasn't much company today it's just, once I'd got the idea of you drinking into my head it's all I could think about but now I feel really bad for accusing you without-"

"Forget it Iruka." The teacher opened his mouth, all set to finish his apology when he was met with Kakashi's lips on his. An arm snaked around his waist and an eager tongue coaxed his own into a dance. The passion was impromptu and caught him off guard, but he caught up quickly, his hands clasping behind a pale neck to pull the kiss deeper. There was no space between them as Kakashi held him tighter, the kiss growing hungry in a way it hadn't since they'd made their relations official.

If Iruka's needy moan hadn't been swallowed by Kakashi, the school bell would have drowned it out anyway. The older man groaned slightly as he felt hands retreating from his neck and space being returned between them. His hands stayed at Iruka's waist though, reluctant to release him.

"I have to go. I shouldn't be making a habit of leaving my classes unattended." As Kakashi's hands slipped from his sides taking the warmth with him, the teacher couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't been doing that this whole time. Gripping a shoulder, he leaned in for one more kiss before he pulled on the heavy glass door. He waved from the inside, a big grin on his well-kissed lips as he watched Kakashi smirk, a hand raised in parting.

As both men walked in opposite directions, their respective smiles remained and a light air followed them around the rest of the day. But, like the deceit it was built upon, their false sense of contentment was set to crumble.

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

It was quite an effective routine Kakashi had established over the next few days. His nights had reverted back to everything they were before Iruka had come back into his life and, just like they had been then, they were cold and entirely empty. He'd never really realised it before, never noticed how there was nothing of substance in his life anymore. It was unsurprising, now he thought about it. He'd failed the only vocation he'd ever had and, without missions and expeditions and undercover operations, there was nothing. Nothing to do, nowhere he was needed, nothing in life he could contribute to.

Even the bottle couldn't distract him from the emptiness that was his life now, however effective it was at distracting him from other things he wanted to ignore. If anything, drinking alone, waking up hungover alone and dealing with the sickness alone, only highlighted how desolate his existence had become.

Except at ten every morning. Why Iruka insisted on calling him at such an awkward hour, Kakashi didn't know. He could only ever talk for a few minutes, he was leaving a class alone and Iruka had a perfectly long lunch hour, ideal for a phone call. He'd made a point of telling the teacher this, initiating another scheduled chat at twelve added to their little routine.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, Kakashi found himself waiting for ten and twelve. He'd drink with these hours in mind, making sure he'd be at his most coherent and his demeanor at it's most natural. Not that he ever really said anything. He could hardly fill Iruka in on the latest chapter of Icha Icha he'd read or how abysmal daytime television was. It was sad really, knowing that the highlight of his day was listening to what Iruka had been doing with his. But, the soldier would accept small graces where he found them and the brunette's voice, his laughter and his silly anecdotes brightened the darkness that followed him around the rest of the time.

On Friday there was probably no need for the calls; they were seeing each other at Naruto and Sasuke's detention at three, but Kakashi wouldn't complain – the more Iruka in his day, the better. Unlike when he'd foolishly had to drink before his café date with Iruka, he was perfectly fine for the karate training. His last proper drink had been early the evening before making his sickness early the next morning – well before his ten o'clock call.

His only worry though, was the weekend. Firstly, he was out of gin, a problem that was easily remedied, but carried a few concerns. He only realised he needed to buy more when he was about to leave for the school. This produced two subsidiary issues; he was unable to take one or two safety shots for the day and he'd have to get the alcohol now, before he met up with Iruka. Which came the next problem; if they followed their usual pattern, which he hoped they did, he would be spending his entire weekend with the younger man, making it very hard to continue his drinking routine. It was foolish to not have thought about this before, but if he was crafty he was sure he could pull it off.

Kakashi would have preferred an actual liquor store to a supermarket, but that's all there was in the vicinity of the school. Luckily, it was a pretty big chain so promised a good selection of alcohol and probably a few good deals. He wasn't in the mood for gin, two bottles had satisfied his taste for that particular drink and he wanted the taste of something different. The amaretto caught his attention, but, as much as he missed those almondy undertones and rich flavour, he couldn't forget the look on Iruka's face when he'd tasted it on his lips. No, he wasn't in the mood for that at all. He knew the cheap brand whiskey would be disgusting and the thought of vodka made him feel a little sick already.

He stood in that alcohol aisle for a good fifteen minutes, well aware that he was already late for his lesson, but unable to find anything remotely appealing. He perused all the spirits available until he found himself in the wine section. The reds, whites and rosés caught his attention and tempted his palette. He could do with something sweet or something fruity and the prospect, after a week's worth of bitter gin, appealed to him greatly. The only problem with wine is that it never got you there quick enough. Where three or four glasses of whiskey on the rocks would render you immobile, you'd have to down an entire bottle and a half of wine for the same effect. And that's only if you hadn't eaten.

Still, it was almost 3.15. Any more deliberation and he may not have a lesson to teach. Before he could change his mind, he placed three bottles of a posh-looking pinot noir in his trolley, followed by three bottles of a sauvignon blanc. Looking at his purchases as they travelled the conveyer belt, he felt pleased with his final options for the next couple of days. Heck, he was was already considering wine for Monday if these bottles did a good job this weekend.

"Oh are you having a party? Great choice getting both red and white! You'll definitely please all the guests" He looked up at the cashier, a bubbly girl in her late teens with a bright shock of red hair escaping from her green uniform hat. Ignoring the shame he felt at the girl's mistake, he matched her row of pearly whites with stern pursed lips, avoiding her question as he swiped his card in the machine. Her smile dwindled as she double bagged the wines, her voice and her tone now somber and reserved as she gave the standard parting phrase to customers.

The red digital clock in his car read 15:36 when Kakashi finally pulled into the school's parking lot. He was already terribly late so saw no point in running, but his usual casual stroll was a much quicker stride as he turned the corridors that were becoming so familiar. As he pushed open the door he, and the apology on his lips, were stopped in their tracks as three pairs of eyes flew to him.

"You're late!" A small tan finger pointed at him as the only blonde in the group jumped out of his seat to regard Kakashi. "Where have you been? We had to start writing lines because of you, you lazy-"

"Naruto!" Iruka's bellow was successful in subduing the blonde, but a glare remained in his narrowed blue eyes, beaten only by the icier glare of his dark-haired peer. "You should be grateful Kakashi-sensei is here at all otherwise the two of you would probably be writing lines every Friday till you leave this school. I want you to write to the bottom of the page you're on before we leave this room."

The teacher walked to the back leaving behind the heavy sighs of his students as he joined Kakashi by the door he was still stood by. The older man felt himself unable to look into questioning brown eyes for too long, but caved after less than a minute.

"Sorry I'm late, Iruka."

A sigh escaped the younger man in front of him. "It's okay. I just...I was kinda worried. What happened?"

He could have kicked himself for lacking the hindsight to come up with an excuse for his lateness because now, subject to the concerned gaze of his boyfriend, the cogs in his brain jammed up. Unfortunately, his tongue was still fully functioning, taking it upon itself to fill the silence that had fallen between them.

"I got...lost." He could have face-palmed at the utter stupidity of that excuse, watching with trepidation as Iruka tilted his head. He could see the scepticism rising behind chocolate orbs and his tongue, eager to make his excuse more believable, carried on. "On...the road." His brain seemed to unclog, rearing into motion after watching Iruka's eyes narrow, evidently not believing his words. "There are... roadworks...by my apartment so I had to take a different route. It's my fault really, I should have left earlier to give me time to find a better road."

Kakashi was still on edge, waiting for some sort of approval from Iruka. He could feel himself wanting to ramble further, but he kept a leash on his tongue. Again it was silent, even the scratching of pens on paper had stopped as Sasuke and Naruto turned their narrowed and skeptical eyes towards their new sensei.

Iruka's head turned toward his students, surprising them as he directed his narrowed eyes to them instead. "Is there any reason you've stopped writing?" Both boys gulped, Sasuke looking away and Naruto ready to defend himself before their teacher spoke again. "If the both of you aren't in the gym with a full page of lines in ten minutes, we won't be training at all."

With that, Iruka left the classroom, the sound of pen scribbling across paper following him and Kakashi out. The older of the two was still on edge, not sure if he'd gotten away with his poor excuse but glad to have avoided further interrogation.

As they walked towards the gym, the atmosphere was noticeably heavy. It didn't feel as though they'd talked on the phone for an hour earlier that afternoon, it didn't feel like they'd been having easy conversations about absolutely nothing, when now, Kakashi couldn't even think of anything to say.  They silently laid down row after row of mats as they'd discussed on the phone a day previously.

After laying down the last one, Iruka went over to the window, sitting on the raised wooden ledge and patting the space beside him. Kakashi was stilled for a minute, looking at the brunette framed in the window. The afternoon sun behind him illuminated his features making his tan skin the warmest shade he'd ever seen it and the ex-soldier couldn't help but be grateful for this man in his life. As sappy as it was, Kakashi couldn't help but think, with all the demons that followed him around, he was lucky, exponentially so, to have stumbled upon an angel.

"Are you coming to sit down, or are you just gonna stare at me?" Blinking out of his daydream, Kakashi couldn't help but blush slightly as he walked to the window seat.

**…**

Though Iruka's words had seemed playful, his heartbeat had piqued under the incessant gaze of the older man. To be watched so closely, analysed so completely by a single eye, so dark in its hue, always had Iruka on edge. At times he felt like a newly discovered microorganism under the telescope of an avid scientist. Other times, specifically the couple of times they'd been intimate, the state had him feeling like a worm in the earth, beneath the bird in the tree, waiting to be swooped up and devoured at any moment. Now though, that hawk's eye had something else in it; he felt like a nouveau piece of art, stunning in every aspect yet hard to understand, that eye doing it's best to decipher what it all meant. That particular look had every inch of his skin tingling and warmth rushing to his head – something he had to quash before the kids came in.

Kakashi sauntered over to sit on the ledge, their knees brushing each other despite the ample room. No longer being subjected to that stare, Iruka felt better, but even the slight physical contact was a bit distracting. Still, neither states diverted from the teacher's scrutiny of the other man. As he was being watched, he too was watching, noticing slight differences in the way Kakashi was carrying himself. Already the man was very laid back – any looser and he'd be boneless – but there was less tension in his shoulders, less pressure around his mouth, less crinkles around his eyes. This should all have been cause for celebration but Iruka had picked up on the darker shade under his companion's eyes, the almost imperceptible knots in his silver mane and the whiter complexion of his face. Most worrying of all was the appalling excuse he'd given for his lateness. Through his years of teaching, kids always thought they could fool him with one tale or another recounting what made them late. He'd become pretty expert at determining the liars, Kakashi being one of the poorer ones.

Iruka felt as though he should be more worried or concerned. The signs were all pointing to no good, showing him that all wasn't well, but then he'd remember their phone calls. Without a shadow of a doubt, the highlight of the past few days had been his lunch hours. The slow words and deep baritone that reached him from the other end of the line, as rare as it was and only after prompting, never failed to make him smile. It was silly really, feeling like a high school kid with their first real crush, fighting the strange desire to twirl the loops of a corded phone despite being on a mobile. Everything was so right in those calls he wanted to ignore the hints of anything being wrong. Either way, if everything went according to plan tonight, he would find out whether there was any real cause for worry. He'd ask about the recent discrepancies and put to bed the little anxieties trying to rear their head.

"So, I was thinking, if you want, today we could go to mine after training. You still haven't seen my place and it would be a nice change of scenery, if you want. We don't have to though, I don't mind going-"

"Iruka. I'd love that." Kakashi interjected with one of his rare smiles, pulling a matching one from the brunette and spurring him to go into detail about his plans.

"I was thinking I could make a proper meal. I'm not sure what yet, but there's a supermarket not too far from here that we can pick up stuff from. Plus there's still a couple of karate movies I'm determined to make you see and…" Iruka tapered off, distracted by the lascivious smirk that had grown on Kakashi's lips. "What?"

"I see what this is." The brunette tilted his head waiting for an explanation. "I may not have seen many movies but I've read enough Icha Icha to know a make-out tactic when I see one."

Iruka's eyes widened as he realised what the older man was alluding to. "No, Kakashi, thats...I didn't…"

"I'm onto your plan Iruka. Luring me in with food and films so you can have your way with me on the sofa." A rare laugh escaped Kakashi and, had Iruka not been flustered and trying to correct the other man, he would have fully absorbed and enjoyed the melodious sound.

"Th-that's not why-"

"Hey, it's okay, don't worry about it." The teacher, still red with embarrassment sighed a little, relieved to have left the conversation, before Kakashi's next sentence floored him. "There's no need for elaborate plans though, if you wanted to have sex tonight all you had to do was ask."

Nearly falling off the ledge, in a spluttering mess as he felt his face erupt in an all-consuming blush while the silver-haired man failed to hold in something suspiciously close to a giggle, Iruka couldn't help but laugh too. Their sniggers lasted another childish minute or two before Iruka heard the unmistakably loud voice of his blonde student approaching the sports hall. Looking towards Kakashi, the bags under his eyes and his pasty skin all fell to the background, the smile still playing on his lips being the only focus for the teacher.

The giggles were still in the teacher and, feeling mischievous, he decided to seek payback. He waited until Naruto's voice was just outside the door, before turning his head, their close proximity ensuring his breath hit the other man’s neck.

"You were wrong about my plan, you know. I'm not inviting you over as a ruse to have sex tonight." At this moment a blonde ball of energy barreled in from the opposite doorway, a pale raven following at a more civilised pace. Iruka chose this moment to step off ledge, stopping only to lean further into Kakashi, to whisper right in his ear. "I was hoping to have my way with you the entire weekend.”

Hopping off the ledge, Iruka walked to meet Naruto in the middle of the hall, half-heartedly assessing their completed lines, before looking back to see Kakashi's eye blown wide, a faint pink above his cheekbones and his long fingers gripping into the edge of the wood. The teacher couldn't help but laugh as the older man was pulled out of his stupor by a frantically waving Naruto exclaiming about wasting no more time.

**…**

That had been a cruel trick, a very cruel trick, and Kakashi found himself glancing back at Iruka during the first fifteen minutes of training. The boys were only stretching and running through the stances and basic attacks and defences from last week, so he didn't feel too guilty, but the teacher's words, though said in jest, had got him thinking.

Sex. He had been teasing before and knew Iruka had only been paying him back for it, but now it was out there, he couldn't help but realise it was the next logical step. And that thought excited him to no end, so much so he had to wonder why he hadn't had it on his mind already.

That's when he remembered what he'd been doing the entire week. Everything he'd done, from the lies to the phone calls, had been to ensure Iruka and he could have some semblance of normality in their relationship. But, as he corrected Naruto's footing and straightened Sasuke's back, a question came to Kakashi that had guilt – undiluted and undisturbed – coursing through him. How could he possibly deserve to take it to that level with Iruka when all he'd been doing was lying to the man and going behind his back? It was all for them, yes, but that didn't change the fact that he wasn't who the younger man thought him to be.

A livid Naruto and a glaring Sasuke, standing in their positions and ready for their next instructions, pulled the silver-haired sensei from his inner ramblings.

"Okay, I think you have your stances, defences and basic attacks down." He ignored the mumbled 'you think' from one of the kids, pushing aside his worries to concentrate on something he was actually good at. "You're probably ready to start sparring." The tilt of a blond head had him reiterating. "A fight."

"All right! Finally! You ready to get ass beat fair and square, Sasuke?"

"Hn. In your dreams."

The next hour flew by. Kakashi could say the two boys were possibly the best he'd ever taught. They were still raw, lacking the experience and skill to be anything but average but, they were naturals. Sasuke had an agility in his attacks that wasn't easily taught, like an innate grace he'd inherited. It made his attacks precise and, having been called a genius in the art of karate, Kakashi could see the same characteristics in the raven-haired boy. But, that was not to say Naruto was not a formidable opponent. The blonde gave as good as he got, showcasing a strength and a stamina that seemed to be coming from an bottomless well within him. Where Sasuke's genius let him pick up new skills easily, Naruto had a knack for creating his own techniques – as unpredictable and atypical as they may be – that were difficult to foresee and even harder to counter.

As he brought the panting boys together after calling time on their third spar, he went through their fight step-by-step, showing both of them were they could have done even better. He could imagine it now, maybe two or three years down the line, the boys would be an impressive team. Where one lacked, the other excelled and Kakashi was genuinely excited with the prospect of nurturing them in their journey. He was just about to send them out for another round when Iruka jumped off his window ledge.

"Guys, I think we should call it a day. It's just gone five and if I keep you here much longer I'm pretty sure we'll all be in a lot of trouble." The disappointed groans from all three of them had Iruka chuckling as he started removing some of the floor mats. "Come on, help me out here."

After Kakashi and Iruka put back all the mats, in double-quick time with the help of Naruto and Sasuke, the goodbye's were swift as the younger boys, led by the incessant chatter of the blonde half of the pair, headed in the direction of Ichiraku's, the older males making their way to their cars. There was no deliberation over which car was to be taken, the brunette jumping in the driver's seat of his vehicle. Driving out of the car park, Kakashi couldn't hide the wistful look in his eye as he stared out the window toward his car, watching as his pinot noir and sauvignon blanc was pulled further out of his grasp as Iruka drove on toward the supermarket. He didn't need it. Not at all. He was completely calm and content but that didn't stop the growing panic as he contemplated a weekend without alcohol.

As they pulled into the parking of the supermarket, Kakashi realised he'd been silent, looking out of the window the entire journey. Unlatching his seatbelt, he caught a slight look of concern in hazel eyes and decided to strike conversation, not only to distract Iruka from his reclusiveness, but distract himself from the worry of a drink-free weekend.

"So, any ideas what you want to cook? If I'm gonna be helping, we might want to check out the microwavable meals section." Already a bit of his trepidation slid away as he watched Iruka laugh while pulling out a trolley.

"You're allowed nowhere near the kitchen! I'm not even sure if I can trust you with the chopping."

"What? I can do that, at least!"

"Hmm, we'll see." They walked past the breads and cereals, making their way through all the confectionaries, then milks and cheeses before finally entering the meat and fish section in the back. "What are you thinking? Beef? Pork? Chicken? Fish?"

Kakashi looked at all the choices and shrugged thinking any food was better than the makeshift half-meals he'd been making at home. "Your choice."

"I'm cooking this meal for you, Kakashi."

"You don't have to, seriously, anything is an improvement from what I'm used to."

"I know that. I just...I wanted to treat you." Iruka was turned away from him as he mumbled this, but the older man was still able to see the faintest tint on his cheeks.

Drink, in that moment was the furthest thing on his mind as he watched the teacher continue to eye some oysters. He had trained many soldiers, completed countless expeditions and led so many men in battle – successful battles at that – but he couldn't remember the last time anyone had wanted to do anything for him just for the sake of it. Warmth bubbled his insides as he walked to catch up with Iruka, wrapping an arm around his waist and dropping a kiss to his shoulder.

"In that case, I'd love some grilled fish." His tone was low, barely above a whisper, and Kakashi delighted in the small shivers he felt in Iruka, no doubt caused by his warm breath upon the tan flesh of his neck. Releasing the slightly shorter man, the two of them continued shopping, the cozy companionship of an old friendship and the sweet electricity of a new romance wrapped around them as they browsed the store.

Iruka had, less than subtly, herded him away from the alcohol aisle and, though it made him feel like a toddler being guided away from the cupboard with the cleaning products, he was kind of glad to have avoided any awkward conversation that may have arisen from that particular walk. That was the first saving grace of the day, the second being that the red-headed cashier who'd served him earlier that day, had a slightly longer line than the till beside her which Iruka joined.

Back in the car, the ex-soldier actually thought about the destination they were driving in. He wasn't thinking about the wine left in the boot of his car, he wasn't thinking about what he'd do without anything to pacify his demons or how he'd feel if he were to see his nightmares for the first time in almost a week. He was thinking about Iruka, about what his house would be like and what would be in it. He could bet the teacher had loads of photos on the walls and, where his apartment was modern and minimalist, he could imagine the teacher's place being rustic and snug.

He couldn't wait. He was pretty sure he knew most things about Iruka, a lot more than Iruka knew about him anyway, but going to his home and staying the weekend felt like he was breaking down one of, if not the last, barrier around the brunette. As the car neared its destination, Kakashi's excitement only grew.

**…**

They were less than a few minutes away now and, as it had been doing the closer he got to home, Iruka's nervousness only grew. He had thought about inviting Kakashi over to his for a while and, in the last few days he'd decided to ask, he'd been preparing his home. No wayward test papers or lesson plans were strewn on the kitchen table. The cushions he pulled from the sofa to the floor when he wanted to mark work on the low coffee table in the living room, had been plumped and placed back in their rightful spot.

Even as he'd been cleaning his home the day before, dusting his mantlepiece, straightening all the frames on his walls and doing a quick vacuum, he knew it wasn't the cleanliness of his house he was bothered about. He'd seen Kakashi's apartment at it's very worst; he still shuddered remembering the state of the kitchen, so he was sure the older man wouldn't bat an eyelid to the odd displaced cushion or messy stack of papers.

Iruka's home was like a little microcosm of everything that was him. Everything in it, compiled and assessed, told a story of his life, a story Kakashi had already read a great deal of, but this weekend would give him access all areas.

This wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Not at all. It was just nerve-wracking; to open oneself completely to another. He didn't have any earth-shattering secrets or closet tendencies that would surprise the soldier, but either way he was ready to bare all that he was to the other man. Iruka could only hope that after today Kakashi would feel able to the same.


	23. Chapter 23

Iruka, as Kakashi had expected the further away they drove from the city, lived in a pretty suburban area. It wasn't so much so that the area was full of families – the small cars and bikes in the terraced street being evidence of that – but just enough to feel a sense of community. They drove a little ways down the road before Iruka parallel parked between a mini and a moped. The driver smiled at him, removing his seatbelt before they both got out, taking the bags from the back of the car as Iruka led them both to his door.

There was no front garden to Iruka's house. It was one of those front facing properties where the door was basically by the pavement, but Kakashi could tell the teacher had gone through some effort to make the property unlike all the other houses on the terrace. A weathered welcome mat sat before a bright red door, a large silver dolphin head knocker making the door even more special than all the other white and black doors on the street. On either side of the mat was a well-groomed potted shrub, adding to the cuteness of the entrance.

"Nice door knocker, dolphin". He smirked amusedly at the blush that dusted tan cheeks as Iruka glared at him. The shade was nowhere near as intense as the door, but he hoped to get there at some point during this night. Opening the door, they brought the shopping bags into the entryway. The brunette stopped to lock the door and look through the letters that had accumulated underneath it, Kakashi using this time to remove his shoes and peruse the walls.

A staircase was immediately in front of the door leading up to the rooms above. Unlike the bold door, the walls here were a standard magnolia, but Kakashi could see that pictures, in various landscape and portrait frames, hung on the wall, ascending gradually as the stairs did. There was a door to the left, probably leading to the living rooms and kitchen, although with it's distorted glass he couldn't really be sure. All that lay to the right was a variety of coat hooks and shoes below them, making the silver-haired man realise that only one of the windows beside the red door belonged to teacher's property.

_'Small'_ was the first thought to cross the soldier's mind, but after removing his coat, that thought fizzled away as Iruka revealed the living room beyond the glass door. Like the stairways, the walls were a bland vanilla but that was the only mediocre thing about the room. The wall opposite him had a large, gold-framed mirror in the centre, the wooden edges of it probably painted to match the fireplace below it. Above that sat a mantlepiece, every inch of it covered by framed photographs of a life that, Kakashi now knew, only thrived once he'd left it. Even from where he stood, by the window, he could see so many people, so many memories and, from the little he'd seen in the stairway, he knew many more people and many more memories had a place in Iruka's home and life. Kakashi couldn't help but feel like a blip on Iruka's radar, but he pushed the thought aside as he moved closer to the wall.

He bypassed the pictures for now, looking at one of the two paintings either side of the mirror. Both pieces we large, the top of them starting at the same line as the mirror, but stretching farther down than the mantlepiece. Immediately he recognized the one on the right as the painting from the café. He might have been a bit hazier than he thought on that day, because this one looked much brighter, the colours bolder, the passion in the embrace of the lover's much more obvious.

The piece on the other side of the mirror was just as beautiful. The blue painted sky with swirls of yellow and white looked slightly familiar. He couldn't tell if it was the moon, the sun or the stars but the tempestuous whirlpools were kind of mesmerizing above the silhouette of the city below. He was still looking at it when Iruka emerged from the curved archway in the farthest wall.

"Van Gogh's, 'Starry Night'. It was the first painting my dad ever bought himself and it hung in the dining room for as long as I can remember". Kakashi only nodded, still engrossed in the piece. He heard Iruka's warm laugh and felt the man move closer till his chin was resting on his shoulder, tan arms around his waist as he analysed the painting from the vantage point behind his ear. "You look like an art collector in a museum."

Kakashi turned his head slightly, observing the many pieces of art on the other walls of the living room, smirking at the smile that lay on his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure there are enough paintings here to fill a museum."

"Hey, there isn't that many. I wish I had more walls actually, there's so many I can't fit in this small house but I'll just have to keep rotating till I get a bigger home."

"Rotating? What do you mean?"

"All the paintings in here, the old mirrors and some of the furniture are from my parent's home. Everything from that house got moved to storage for me to use as I wish, but I wanted to wait until I'd actually bought a place. My inheritance kicked in when I turned eighteen but Aunt Tsunade wanted me to experience university living so I stuck it out for a while. I was going to wait until I finished my degree, but in my third year I saw this house being advertised in the local paper. I decided to come see it and bought it that day. And this is where I've been for the last few years. It's not much, but...it's home."

Kakashi said nothing, only nodding and stroking the hands that were folded at his stomach. 'Home.' The word played on the older man's mind. He had never, and probably would never see his apartment as a home. The property he'd carelessly bought after being discharged from the army was lifeless and silent compared to Iruka's home. This place told so many stories and, he could imagine how alive the place could be with new artwork on the walls every once in a while; the home living and breathing, as conscious as the man who inhabits it.

With one more squeeze, Iruka let go of him. "I'm gonna go start cooking". With that he disappeared back under the archway to the kitchen.

Leaving the Van Gogh, Kakashi walked to the pictures on the mantlepiece. Seeing his parent's mementos was a great privilege, but Iruka's photographs were a lot more personal. There was no timeline to them, the first one being of Iruka and Tsunade. They both wore big smiles but it was the bronze coin held between the woman's fingers above both their heads that was the focus of the photo. He didn't have to look long to work out it was the AA one years sobriety chip.

The raging emotions of guilt, failure and frustration that arose from seeing the look of absolute pride on a younger Iruka's face had a pang of discomfort hitting the silver-haired man. This wasn't even the time to deal with that mess, so he moved swiftly on. The next few pictures looked like various shenanigans from university, one being paintballing, another a party-looking scene, as well as a photo on the pier of some sea-side town. The same faces appeared in the photos and he felt a pang of jealousy for the people who were able to spend the brunette's more youthful years with him. Moving on, he came by a lot of photos from the school; sports days, classes leaving and entering the school and even pictures with other teachers. Naruto was the only student with his own picture with Iruka, the background of Ichiraku's easily recognisable as they grinned above their empty ramen bowls. Kakashi couldn't help but smile at that – at all the pictures actually – as the smiles present in all the scenes from the past radiated the happiness of those moments.

The photograph in the centre of the mantelpiece was a little Iruka, much younger than the eight year old he'd first met, standing between a man and a woman crouched to meet his height. The man shared the same dark chocolate hair, it too pulled back into a spiky ponytail, although the boys' was a lot shorter and much messier. His caramel skin was shared by the woman ruffling his hair, her face carrying a much more serene beauty than the grinning males beside her, but her almond eyes with their stunning hazel hue shared the same joy. The next row of photos were of his parents, the oldest in the collection being their wedding photo.

The pictures were beautiful, really they were, but as the mantel dropped off so did Kakashi's soft smile. Even as he'd gone through them all, he'd been hoping he would see just one with his younger face in it. If Iruka hadn't been a teacher, photography would have been a very viable option. He loved the ability to capture a moment and was a firm believer in the idea that a single photo could capture a thousand words. As such, once he had a camera, the first being a christmas gift from Tsunade at 12, he very rarely went anywhere without it. And Kakashi knew this. There were photos of them together, plenty of them, yet none of them stood here with the rest of his precious memories.

"Hey, I need some green onions cutting for the miso soup, if you're up for it. I have almost 90% faith you can do it without setting fire to something." Iruka chuckled, but Kakashi said nothing, only nodding and moving past the slightly shorter man into the kitchen.

He could feel Iruka's eyes on him as he approached the kitchen counter having already spotted the chopping board, knife and green onions, but he still said nothing, insecure thoughts circling inside. Kakashi knew he must mean something to the tanned man. There was no way someone would go through as much effort trying to help him if they didn't feel anything for him. But, if that were the case would he too not be memorialised in frame?

The more he pondered it though, the more he started to doubt it. All those memories on the mantelpiece were happy, joyous occasions and Kakashi wasn't sure if he'd ever grinned like that in front of a camera; certainly not lately, certainly not voluntarily.

"Are you going to tell me what you're thinking?"

He turned to see Iruka by the stove, whisking in the miso paste to the soup he was making, but didn't answer, returning to his chopping.

"Okay, let me rephrase that. What are you thinking, Kakashi? You suddenly look really somber. Do you not like my house?" The last question was said with a slight chuckle, like it was intended sarcasm, but the tightness of his voice revealed that it may have been an actual worry.

The man in question sighed feeling childish. So, he wasn't in any photos? Big deal. His importance in Iruka's life didn't depend on how many photos he was displayed in. Shaking his head at his own immaturity, he gave a genuine reply. "I love your home, Iruka. I feel privileged that you've let me into something so personal to you, and I appreciate it. Thank you." A soft smile crossed his lips and it was matched, in beauty and sincerity, by his partner. Who cared about a photo when he was blessed enough to see such a stunning sight.

"I'm ready for the onions." Following that command, Kakashi brought them over, scraping them off the chopping board with his knife, into the soup that already smelled divine. There were few culinary delights he liked more than homemade miso, on the very rare occasion someone made him some.

With his arms crossed and his hip resting on the counter beside Iruka, Kakashi asked the only question on his mind. "So, just out of curiosity, what exactly do I have to do to earn a spot on that mantelpiece?"

Iruka looked up from stirring his soup, confusion followed by realisation paving the way for rich laughter. The younger man laughed freely, oblivious to the glare in one deep obsidian eye, a poke to the shoulder from a pale finger being the only thing to lessen the laughter.

"S-sorry," a few more chuckles stalled the sentence before he continued, mirth still in his tone, but no longer distorting his words. "Is that what had you all grumpy? Not being in any of the photos in the living room?" Kakashi didn't answer, only looking into the soup out of some apparent interest. "Kakashi, I have a lot of photographs in my house. Much more than would ever fit on that little ledge."

Kakashi let this thought sink in while Iruka left the soup to simmer as he moved to the oven to check on the fish. The soldier had been so lost in thought when he'd entered the kitchen, he hadn't bothered to look around at all. But now that he was, he couldn't miss the wall of photographs on the far wall above the the small, two-seater kitchen table. Walking away from the stove towards the wall, he couldn't help the wide smile that erupted as he recognised himself in more than a few of them.

There were photos of Iruka being given his red, green and blue belts, Kakashi beside him in each one. The two of them were sat in Ichiraku's in a couple of the photos and there were a few of them in the park Sarutobi used to bring the group to train during summer. The kitchen wall wasn't solely dedicated to him, more scenes of Iruka with high school and university friends and even some with Naruto, Tsunade and Iruka's parents again – much more than were in the living room.

He didn't notice the goofy smile that he'd adorned until he heard amused chuckled from beside him. There was no point even trying to train his face back into stoicism because he was genuinely elated. If there had been any doubt about his place in the brunette's life, that was all gone now.

"Still worried about not having a place on my mantlepiece?" Iruka elbowed him playfully and, even though he was slightly embarrassed at his earlier display of ignorance, Kakashi only smiled. "Actually, I should be offended."

The soldier turned to his companion with a questioning look. "Why's that?"

"I have all these photographs of you in my kitchen, on my stairway, in my bedroom, and you don't have a single thing of me in your apartment." The mock pout was too adorable for Kakashi not to smirk at. He moved closer, holding Iruka at the hip, incredibly tempted to pull that plump lip between his own.

"Hmm, you have a picture of me in your bedroom, do you?" He didn't wait for an answer, moving in to devour the pink lips he'd missed.

Iruka's hands smoothed up his chest, leaving a tingle in their wake as they travelled up to his neck, the tingle that much more electric on the bare skin above his t shirt's collar. It's funny how you only become aware of your hunger when a banquet has been spread before you – and Kakashi was starved.

Pulling Iruka ever closer, his arms were tight around the other man, pale hands roaming his broad back before finding a home on his pert behind. Even through his work slacks, Kakashi could feel the firm round globes and was powerless not to squeeze a handful. When the tanned man detached their lips, Kakashi was sure he'd taken a bit too far, but when those lips attached themselves to his neck, he couldn't keep the groan from escaping or his hands from squeezing, releasing and massaging the ass in his palms, over and over again.

The soft kisses up the line of his neck had his breath heavy and his eyes fluttering, but when a sharp bite and a long suck was delivered to the skin under his ear, Kakashi couldn't hold back the groan or the desire to push Iruka back against the kitchen table. The picture frames on the wall rattled as the table was hit against the wall, but the sound didn't drown out the obnoxiously shrill ring of the oven timer.

As quickly as it had started, their little tryst was cut to an abrupt stop as Iruka, red-faced and panting, fumbled off the kitchen table, detaching himself from Kakashi to take out the grilled fish.

The older man blinked owlishly, trying to control his rapid heartbeat and wakening erection. He turned to see Iruka, fish now out of the oven, trying just as much as he was to reduce his breathing back to normal levels. Their eyes locked across the small kitchen and neither could stop their shuddering laughs as they regarded each others' ruffled and debauched appearances.

Straightening themselves up, Kakashi proceeded to grab the plates and bowls he could see on the shelf, Iruka following with soup for the bowls and fish and rice for the plates. They sat at the table they'd nearly copulated on, eating their dinner in a comfortable quiet, nothing but playful looks and smirks being passed across the table.

**…**

It wasn't an easy feat, eating with a smile plastered on his face, but Iruka couldn't help it. The giddy feeling he got from their phone calls was multiplied tenfold. The slight worry he'd had when Kakashi and he had gone to the café earlier that week, the worry he'd got when Kakashi lied about his reasons for being late, even the worry from his paler skin and dark bags under his eyes all seemed to disappear to the background. How could anything be wrong when everything was so right?

But, the teacher in him, the nagging conscience that always had a word to add, wasn't as content with the current situation as Iruka was. There was a question throbbing to be released and Iruka did just that.

"What day exactly is the anniversary of your father's death?" His voice was steady but low, as it should be when broaching a sensitive subject but he still received a glare from Kakashi. He couldn't blame the man really, in essence he'd just ruined a perfectly sweet dinner to bring up a touchy topic, but he wanted to get it over with now. He wanted Kakashi to open up to him a little bit more, maybe even get closer to solving his nightmares. If they could do that now, getting the subject out of the way, they could enjoy the weekend properly.

The silver-haired man looked at him silently, his eye slightly narrowed and his lips pursed, the playfulness from before seemingly drained. His voice was tight as he finally replied. "It's on Sunday."

Iruka fidgeted in his seat, sighing soundlessly when the dark gaze returned to its plate, but perseverance was the key. "Do have any plans?"

Kakashi didn't even look up from his food as he grumbled. "No. I'd rather just forget it, if you don't mind."

Iruka couldn't ignore how annoyed the man had sounded and he bit his lip, nervous that he had unwittingly angered Kakashi. But, isn't this what he was supposed to be doing. For lack of better word, he was supposed to be 'fixing' this and, even if nearly all of his being just wanted to move on, enjoying the happiness and contentment they had stumbled upon, he wanted happiness and contentment to be the norm. He didn't want it to last only until the night, where nightmares would drag Kakashi back to depression. No, he wanted the nightmares, and anything else that would persuade the man to consider alcoholism again, gone altogether. And ignoring the problem was not the the way to do that.

"Kakashi, are you...do you think ignoring it is the best idea."

"Mah, ignorance is bliss, right?"

Irua furrowed his brows at that. "Is it? Is it really, Kakashi?"

"That's what I'm told." The haughty tone and careless shrug of the shoulder had Iruka placing his cutlery down, giving his undivided attention to the man before him. He could feel annoyance bubbling on the surface but he pushed it down. Even if Kakashi wasn't doing his best to solve this problem Iruka still would, but clearly walking on eggshells was not the way to do so.

"Maybe, but I doubt whoever told you that has to deal with nightmares because of their ignorance." As soon as the sentence crossed his lips an icy glare was delivered to him, shutting him up completely.

They both returned to their fish but the tense atmosphere had already ruined the meal. For some, this would their cue to retreat, but Iruka was persistent, especially when it came to things he cared about. He was almost certain there was nothing and no one he cared about more than the man opposite him and his well being right now. The tension couldn't be pulled any tighter so he asked the question that had been on his mind since Kakashi returned.

"Kakashi." He waited until he had the man's full attention. "Wh-what happened? I mean, on your last tour of duty, what happened?"

**…**

Kakashi froze. From the tips of his hair to the bottom of his toes, he was rendered immobile by that single question. It was the first time Iruka had outrightly asked about his last mission and, even though it was bound to come up eventually, Kakashi was nowhere near ready to talk about it, so he remained silent, racking his brain for something, anything, to say to divert the conversation. However, one look in sincere brown eyes and he found himself unable to lie.

Iruka wasn't prying, he wasn't being nosy and there was no look of someone who wanted to judge, it was just pure sincerity and care. He had done enough lying already and looking in those hazel eyes now, he didn't have the heart to lie again. Still, there was a large grey area between the truth and a lie, and he was nowhere near ready to tell Iruka that his selfish actions had led to the death of his two best friends.

His voice was small and his gaze was averted as he told half of the story that had been haunting his dreams for so long. "I lost my two closest friends in that mission."

Kakashi was looking away towards the wall of pictures, trying to distract himself from the conversation, so he missed the questioning look of his companion. Unbeknownst to him, the cogs were turning in a tan head and, it was evident to him that there was more to the story. A soldier of Kakashi's calibre, who had been in the army for so long, must have seen countless comrades die. Obviously it was never easy, even more so if the deceased were close friends, but death was part of the job. There had to be something more to the story for Kakashi to have developed alcoholism and night terrors. So, as per his nature, Iruka persisted.

"I-I'm so sorry, Kakashi. How did...what exactly happened?"

Kakashi looked at him with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Just that, I just...I don't know, I feel like, maybe there's more to the story." Iruka winced at his phrasing, biting his lip even more violently at the dark scowl he received.

"What exactly do you want to hear? My two best friends were brutally killed in front of my eyes. Is that not enough of a story for you? Have I not opened up enough? That's what you want, right, for me to open up, because it'll make me feel better? Well I hope you feel good, because I feel a hell of a lot worse." Kakashi breathed shakily, not sure where all that had come from. He wiped his glistening brow with a shaky hand hoping the conversation was done, but sadly, it wasn't.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to sound so insensitive. I was just trying to..." he let out an unsteady sigh but carried on despite his shaking frame and heavy heartbeats. "You know I just want to help you and, keeping it all bottled away like you do isn't-"

"I don't need to be helped. Just let me deal with it in my own way."

The stubbornness of the man before him wiped away the nervousness he was feeling, now bold enough to raise his voice and his opinion on ‘Kakashi's way’. "Your own way involved drowning out your consciousness with alcohol, Kakashi!"

"And what was so wrong with that!"

Silence descended upon the kitchen as Kakashi realised what he'd just said. He tried to school his features into nonchalance, but the wide-eyed look of fear on Iruka's eyes prevented him from doing so, unable to even look in the brunette's direction. He played with the spoon in his empty bowl for what seemed like an eternity before Iruka replied.

"Kakashi...pl-please. Please tell me you're joking." The kitchen returned to silence, the only sound now being the shuddery breath from Iruka across the table. Kakashi's mind was a minefield, he felt as though whatever he said at this point would explode in his face, the shrapnel of it tearing apart the fragile fabric of the relationship they'd established. The truth would be an admission that he had lied to the younger man's face and shatter any trust the man had in him. But, could he say otherwise? Could he look in those hazel orbs, filled with worry and concern, and lie again? Could he-

"Kakashi!" Iruka called him out of his reverie, a balled up tanned fist hitting the table with what seemed to be anger, but a closer look at the moisture behind his eyes revealed it to be another emotion altogether. "Have you been drinking?"

"Of course not!" Kakashi was sure he surprised himself more than Iruka with that shout. He had been sitting on the fence, weighing up the advantages and disadvantages of saying yes or no, but, when it came down to it, he realised Iruka just wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand that it was a necessity, he wouldn't understand that without it, their relationship wouldn't work.

Iruka was silent, his eyes narrowed, trying to decide whether he trusted the words that poured from Kakashi's mouth, while the man on trial tried to maintain composure. The minutes ticked by, the soldier finding it harder to appear calm under the suspecting gaze that made him wonder if teachers were trained in interrogation techniques.

A heavy sigh broke the stillness of the kitchen as Iruka rubbed a hand over his face, his voice defeated as he slowly rose from the table. "I-I don't think you're being completely honest with me, Kakashi. I just, I can't...I can't trust you right now."

The last sentence was barely a whisper, but Kakashi's breath caught in his throat all the same. A sense of desperation washed over him as he watched Iruka disappear under the archway back towards the living room, his legs tensed and eager to go after him, but his mind numb, unable to carry out any further action beyond pushing his plate aside and dropping his head to the table.

**…**

Iruka sat at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands holding up the head that suddenly felt so heavy. He knew it was only Kakashi's word against his intuition and a small part of him still thought there was a chance the soldier could be telling the truth but, anyone would be blind not to see the blatant dishonesty. He wasn't sure where it was coming from or what it was Kakashi was lying about. Maybe he wanted to started drinking again, or maybe he'd had one drink. Maybe he'd never stopped.

Where had he gone wrong? Was he not there enough? Should he have been calling more times during the day, heck, should he have been staying at Kakashi's apartment after classes? Had he not conveyed to the man well enough how much he cared? Was a relationship with him not a better alternative to alcohol?

Blinking quickly so the tears wouldn't fall from his eyes, Iruka stood and began to undress. He needed to clear his mind and think rationally if he was to ever figure this out, and a steaming hot shower was just the way.

Turning the faucet all the way to the red marker, he stepped underneath the rapidly warming torrent, the drops beating at his skin in the therapeutic manner he was looking for. But, relaxation was the last thing from his mind. The image of Kakashi hunched in the shower, almost comatose from vodka, continually played in his mind as the thought that sometime in the past week or the week before, maybe once, maybe every day, Kakashi had been in that same position and Iruka had done nothing to prevent it or console him, caused tears to drizzle down tanned cheeks.

**…**

His forehead was rested on the table for two minutes before Kakashi groaned in frustration, shaking a hand through his knotted silver mane as he rose from the table. He paced the small kitchen thinking of what to do, but there was little he could concentrate on beside the memory of the look on Iruka's face as he'd left the kitchen. It wasn't disgust or anger. In some ways he would have preferred either of those reactions. He was disgusted in himself so he could barely blame the younger man for feeling the same, and who wouldn't be angry about being lied to.

No, there was no disgust or anger. Iruka had looked disbelieving, as if the idea of Kakashi being untruthful had never crossed his mind. He'd looked betrayed and completely heartbroken and that, more than any amount of shouted words or physical punishment, had hurt.

If Iruka could no longer trust him, would he even want to continue their relationship?

Kakashi's feet stilled in their pacing, his face paling to an even more sickly white. He knew what his life would be like without Iruka. He didn't want to go back to that. He couldn't go back to that. Without the laughter, without the regular exchanges he'd gotten used to, without the feel of that soft tan flesh against his own or a solid warm body in his arms, there would be no point. There'd be no point in anything.

Unbidden, his father came to mind. Maybe, just maybe if his mother had still been alive, his father may have found the point in carrying on. His stomach seemed to lurch at the memory that he, as his only son, wasn't enough, but that was an old wound, stitched and bandaged repeatedly over the years, even though the blood did seep out from time to time. But maybe that would have done the trick, maybe having the threat of losing the one he loved would have dragged his father out of his depression and given him a reason to persevere.

It wasn't an ideal moment, to realise you were in love with someone when you were under threat of losing them, but Kakashi guessed it was at least better than after having already lost them. But, maybe he had. People always did say once trust was lost it was difficult, if not impossible to gain back.

Kakashi rubbed at his eyes, frustration building within him. He was frustrated at how helpless the situation seemed to be. It was like a catch-22 and he had no idea which option to pick. He could tell the truth, telling Iruka everything about the lies and the drinking in the hopes that it would regain the trust he'd momentarily shaken. But, he knew the teacher well enough to know he would probably worry every time they were apart that he would be drinking and, without a shadow of a doubt, he knew the other man would not allow him to continue to do so. He wouldn't understand that there was no other remedy to his nightmares, no other way he could bear the memory of what he'd done. There was always the opinion to continue his lies. There was probably less than a 1% chance Iruka would believe him, and if he didn't, that trust would be blown to the wind, their relationship likely to follow behind it.

The soldier shook his head needing to clear it of all the scenarios that would lead to him losing Iruka, but catching sight of all the photos of them on the wall only added to his frustration. He decided to clear the table, taking the mostly empty dishes to the sink. The window behind the sink gave a great view of Iruka's back garden as he washed the bowls and plates that offered a much-needed distraction from his thoughts. The boiler was still chugging away in the corner of the kitchen when he'd dried all the dishes causing Kakashi to muse momentarily that the younger man would get wrinkly fingers and toes if he stayed in the shower any longer.

With the kitchen back to its best state, he once again sat at the table. Things weren't so muddled anymore and he knew what choice he had to make. 'Alcohol or Iruka.' But, as soon as he'd phrased it like that, he felt sick to his stomach. Was he really that far gone that alcohol was even a plausible alternative to a man who'd brought laughter to his life, who'd made him smile genuinely for the first time in a terribly long time, who made his bleak reality so much warmer and so much more colourful?

The wooden legs of Kakashi's chair scratched against the floor as he pushed it back to rise from the table, his epiphany jolting him into action. As soon he'd climbed the stairs, he ground to a halt, the sound of the shower telling him he may have been too hasty. He found himself at a loss, holding onto the wooden banister but reluctant to go back downstairs. Everything was on the tip of his tongue and if he returned to the silence of the kitchen and the noise of his thoughts, he wasn't sure he'd have the courage to tell the truth.

Perching himself on the top step, Kakashi waited, but not for long. He'd barely found a comfortable spot, his feet still deciding whether to rest on the step below of the one below that, when the shower was turned off.

Kakashi body froze as he heard the other man padding around in the bathroom, but his lungs froze when the door was opened revealing a partially dried Iruka with a white towel hanging low on his waist, cut short at his mid thigh. This was not the time for arousal, but the man was a sight to behold. His hair was still damp, hanging just past his shoulders, dripping droplets of water down his torso to his nipples, erect from the change in temperature. His eye had barely taken in the taut bronze stomach when Iruka spoke up.

"What are you doing here?" All carnal thoughts were pushed aside at the sound of his tired voice and the look of his red eyes. The nervousness came right back to Kakashi as he stood to face Iruka, realising once again the tightrope he was on. A slight misstep and he would find himself tumbling right back down to loneliness.

"I...er. I wanted to talk."

"I don't really want-"

"Please."

**…**

Iruka was only going to point out that he didn't really want to have the upcoming conversation naked, but the desperation in Kakashi's tone made him stop. On a closer look, the nerves in the older man's frame were blatantly evident and seeing someone who was usually so cool and collected suddenly anxious, had him nodding his head and leading Kakashi into his room.

He didn't know how long he'd been in the shower, but the time had certainly calmed his tumultuous emotions while it had, apparently, riled up Kakashi's. Under the calming spray and swirling steam, the disbelief, hurt, anger and betrayal he'd felt had simmered down to a dull murmur. The only feeling that was still loud enough to beat against his conscience was guilt.

He had failed. He didn't know where or how, but he had failed. All he'd tried to do since Kakashi came back was show him he'd be there for him. All he had wanted the man to know was that he never had to be so alone again; that Iruka would be his rock, his consoler and confidante instead of the bottle – but he had failed.

More than anything he had wanted to talk to the soldier and ask him why. He didn't think it'd be an easy feat, assuming he'd have to beg the man to open up, so he was a little more than surprised by Kakashi's sudden enthusiasm to speak, but incredibly glad all the same.

Iruka motioned a hand to his bed, he himself going to the back of his door to put on the fluffy white robe from the hook. He turned to see Kakashi perched on the edge of it, his palms nervously rubbing across his knees, his eye finding great interest in the deep red carpet on the floor. His anxiety travelled to the brunette, who suddenly felt out of place in his own home. He wasn't sure whether to sit beside him or whether to spend a minute removing the junk on the bench that came with his dresser, so he could sit on the piece of furniture that had become a clothes horse. His feet fidgeted unable to decide where to take their owner, so in the end they stayed put, awkwardly hovering between the wall and the bed, staring at the man in front of him as the silence started to become heavy and hard.

"So...what did you want to talk about?" Iruka asked, trying to ease the tension and get to what they both knew needed to be discussed. But, as he received a raised eyebrow from the man across of him, he realised how dumb his question had been.

"Not the weather." It was a sardonic tone, meant to ease the situation with Kakashi's usual brand of aloofness and nonchalance, but the tension broke through his voice. His attempt to make light of the situation irritated Iruka slightly, but the addition of a nervous tick to the knees, showed just how difficult this was for Kakashi.

With a deep sigh Iruka waited patiently not wanting to push too hard, but a few more minutes of silence had him calling the other man's name in a quiet but encouraging tone. He didn't hear a response, but he did see the man take a sharp intake of breath. Iruka took a breath too, preparing for what was to come.

"I'm sorry." He didn't expect that. He blinked repeatedly, the shaky apology repeating itself in his head. There had still been a little corner of his mind holding onto the belief that Kakashi hadn't really been drinking again, but that apology was as good as a confession. Iruka's shoulders sagged, his gaze falling to his feet, wishing he had sat down earlier but too overwhelmed now to move from his spot.

He wanted to hear it though. If this was going to be the start of Kakashi's actual recovery, he didn't want any confusion, he didn't want anything shrouded in doubt.

"Wh-what for?" He chanced a glance at the older man seeing his brow wrinkled in confusion at the question. There was no answer though, so he clarified his question, his voice low and shaky but determined. "What are you sorry for?"

After a deep inhale and an equally heavy exhale, Kakashi replied. "I...I'm sorry for-" His sentence was cut-off by another sigh and Iruka couldn't look away. This person who had always looked like the pillar of confidence seemed to be crumbling in front of him. He wanted to reach out, to hold him and tell him he was there for him and everything would be fine, but he held back. That could come later. Now though, they needed to talk.

"Kakashi?"

"For...losing your trust." Even though his voice wavered, Kakashi held his eyes for the first time and Iruka didn't dare break the connection.

"S-so...gain it back." If the pale hand raking through a silver mane was any sign, both of them knew what he was really asking.

"Iruka, I…I don't know where to start."

"Have you...have you been drinking again?"

**…**

There was no point in lying. Lying right now would most certainly be a one-way ticket out of Iruka's circle of trust. There was still a voice screaming at him to deny everything, to deny his weaknesses and make Iruka believe everything was fine, but he ignored it. If the decision was between keeping up his strong, untouchable facade and losing Iruka or breaking that image, to lay all his flaws and vulnerabilities on the table, but be able to keep Iruka by his side, the choice was clear. It hadn't always been, but it was suddenly crystal clear.

He couldn't form the words though, so the least he could do was maintain eye contact as he gave a stiff nod. With a pained gaze, he watched as Iruka took in a quivering breath, his eyes glazing over as he stared at nothing in particular. Kakashi swallowed a lump in his throat as the silence stretched on.

"Iruka, I'm sorr-"

"Since when?" It was strange that such a whispered question could make him flinch, but combined with the intense hazel gaze aimed at him, it may aswell have been shouted. It wasn't an angry intensity though, or even a negative one. It was a resolute gaze with no room for maneuver or compromise.

"Sunday." His voice was so small he could barely hear it himself but the widening brown eyes and tan hands coming up to tangle in chocolate tresses showed he'd been heard. He watched as Iruka seemed to seek a stabiliser, walking back a few steps till his back lazily met with a wall. He almost wished he had lied, seeing how much the truth hurt. "Iruka, I'm sorry."

"Stop it! Stop apologising. I'm the one who should be sorry." Kakashi sat still, his brows furrowing as he watched Iruka rub at one of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

"How can you say that? You have nothing to be sorry for."

"But I do! I was meant to be here for you, but this whole week-"

"You were. You are!" He rose to his feet, desperate to convey how much none of this could possibly be Iruka's fault. He stood an arm's width away, their eyes now aligned.

"Then, why?" The crack in the younger man's voice made him wince and he wasn't sure he'd be able to carry on the conversation if the other man started to cry. But, as he thought of what to answer, he wasn't sure he could carry on anyway.

Silence once again descended for a few minutes because Kakashi didn't know how to fill the void of the question he'd been asked.

"Kakashi. Talk to me, please. I can't help if you don't talk to me."

"There's nothing you could do anyway."

"You haven't even let me try, 'Kashi." Iruka's tone was so soft, the endearing nickname that slipped out peeling back the velcro he'd placed over his lips. Wringing his hands, he looked to the deep-red carpet, glad that his pounding heart was loud enough to make his voice sound almost silent to his own ears.

**…**

Iruka was sure he was getting nowhere, caught in between desperately trying to continue the conversation but fearful of pushing the man too far. He closed his eyes momentarily, rubbing at them with his fingers, before he swiftly tore his hand away when Kakashi began to speak, his voice hushed.

"I've tried, but nothing else works. Nothing else makes them go." Iruka bit his lip at the wavering voice, but remained quiet, willing Kakashi to speak more. Not long after, his waiting paid off, the older man revealing more, his tone still unsteady. "When I don't...when I'm sober, they always seem to come back ten times worse."

"The nightmares?" He received a stiff nod in reply, but nothing else. "Wh-what is it that you see?"

Kakashi's head shook in the negative and the brunette was sure he'd asked a question the other man was still unable to answer. He was surprised then when an even smaller voice answered, but once he registered the words he wished he'd never heard them, his heart hammering with an ache at what they suggested.

"Things that remind me...make me think that...I shouldn't be here. I could...I should have saved them or...or just...died trying."

Kakashi's father came to Iruka's mind and an icy chill ran down his spine, his eyes widening with a fear so bitter he let out a choked gasp. He knew the older man's nightmares were almost unbearable; he'd been witness to their crippling effects. But this, this was something that had never crossed his mind, not even in the most pessimistic corner of his psyche.

He found his feet shuffling to eat the distance between them, his hands now a sharp contrast to the pale cheeks they were laid upon. He lifted the man's face so their eyes could meet yet again, but dark grey lashes remained rested against almost translucent skin.

"Kakashi." Even as a whisper, his voice shook with sobs he was desperately trying to keep in. "Kakashi...'Kashi, please."

He swallowed when an obsidian eye, glistening with an unshed tear rose to meet his own, not strong enough to keep his own from falling. The skin of their brows met as Iruka pulled him closer, as he tried to regulate his breathing so he could speak.

"Y-you should. You should be here. Don't ever say you shouldn't. D-don't even think it, 'Kashi. You belong right here...with me."

**…**

Kakashi could feel the warm wetness of Iruka's tears on his skin, the salty taste of a few drops resting on his upper lip. He could feel himself nodding, agreeing wholeheartedly with the brunette's teary sentiment. The mistakes he had made were unforgivable and, even if his nightmares receded, he would never forget or forgive himself for his friends' death. But, for the first time in a long time, he was glad to be alive, glad to feel his pulse thrumming rhythmically under the little fingers of Iruka's hands that were still resting on his cheeks, glad to be here with love only a hair's breadth away.

He kissed Iruka; a deep, sensuous affirmation that yes, he did indeed know that this is where he belonged. Tan hands became lack, falling from his face and coming to rest at his shoulders, as his own hands gripped at the hips before him.

As air became a necessity, he broke the kiss, not going far though, his lips laying pecks on a forehead, on the tear streaks on Iruka's left cheek, on his right cheek and on the patch of skin beneath his right ear. He received an almost silent whimper for it, sticking to the same spot, his kisses no longer chaste, but open mouthed, his teeth grazing at it while the hands at his shoulders gripped tighter. Sucking at the quickly darkening flesh, he tightened his hold on Iruka, his fingers clutching into the fluffy cotton of his robe.

Kakashi felt a hand at his neck, directing his eye back to half-lidded hazel ones. "T-tell me you know. I need to know that...that you know you should be here, that you wouldn't-"

The silver-haired man cut off that sentence with a deep kiss. His tongue reuniting with Iruka's once more, not letting up until the man was breathless. "I won't. I wouldn't because...I know I should be here. I know I belong here...with you."

**…**

Iruka kissed Kakashi wholeheartedly, skipping chaste smooches to let their tongues do the talking. It was feverish and hurried; Iruka trying to erase the fear of losing Kakashi, Kakashi trying to convey that those fears were now unwarranted.

The brunette's hands were racing across the other's torso, shoulders, back and arms, his hands unsatisfied with staying in one place. Kakashi was nearly panting at the treatment, clutching at the robe he was desperate to get under, but the desperation to feel those hands rubbing on his actual skin was much greater.

Breaking the kiss and releasing his hold on Iruka's hips, Kakashi stepped back a little to lift the long-sleeved black t-shirt from his frame. He didn't waste any time reintroducing their tongues, but the fiery pace from before was replaced by something else. Upon seeing the creamy pectorals being revealed, Iruka's mind had stilled. He would have happily slowed right down, staring for a few more minutes, had the older man not kissed him. But the rush had disappeared, in it's a place a languid meeting of lips, as Iruka's fingertips seemed determined to memorise every square inch of Kakashi's skin.

The soldier had thought the hot, racing hands had been intense, but these slow strokes were equally, if not more, arousing. They were deliberate paths being made around his neck, across his collarbones and biceps, bypassing his nipples to go through the ridges of his abs and back up across the nipples dying for attention. Iruka didn't stop, his hands travelling to the man's back, now even slower as he caressed the tight, taut skin of his scars, his fingerprints surely memorising all his imperfections.

Kakashi felt a shiver down his spine, the lust from those innocent touches rising to a level he couldn't ignore. He wanted more...he needed more.

Pulling away from Iruka's lips, his hands moved to the loose knot of the robe separating him from caramel skin he was eager to feel against his own. His hands paused on the belt, looking into hazel eyes for permission; permission to de-robe him, permission to possibly take this encounter to the end.

Iruka could feel the question in the gaze and the almost unnoticeable tremble on the hands at the knot of his robe. That annoying old ridge of his conscience, that always had to point out the negatives, was questioning whether this was a good idea. They had talked, yes, but nothing had really been solved, there had been no affirmation that Kakashi would stop drinking. Maybe sex would only would complicate a situation that was already too complex for him to comprehend.

But, that was only a tiny degree of his brain. The rest of it was muddled with unbridled lust. All he could concentrate on was his need to touch and be touched this man, a raging desire to make them both whole. Iruka kissed Kakashi once more, not deepening it though, as he moved his lips to a pale collarbone, raking his teeth across it and sucking at the flesh there, listening as the older man started to pant heavily.

The shaky hands on his robe undid the knot, letting the the garment fall to his sides. Iruka's skin was still slightly damp but warm under his cool fingers. The small towel he'd seen when the man had left the shower was still wrapped around his waist. His fingers slipped into it, the towel falling to floor in a heap and revealing the firm globes he'd had a feel of in the kitchen.

Iruka gasped at the feel of his half-hardness being freed from its confines. Kakashi's hands were doing sinful things to his behind, exploring all of it's flesh with a firm grip and pulling it in so their hips aligned. He continued his assault of the pale neck, intrigued by the many colours his lips could conjure in the usually translucent skin. His hands, however, had other plans, reaching to Kakashi's waistband, undoing the button and zip of his dark blue jeans.

Kakashi got the idea, shimmying out his jeans and using his heels to move them past his feet. He had no time to contemplate taking his socks off because he found himself moving slowly backwards, tan hands at his chest, directing him to the edge of the bed. He sat down in the spot on which he had been close to tears not long ago, but didn't dwell on it as he found a bronzed angel in his lap.

Their half-lidded eyes met before their lips did, in innocent peck after innocent peck, each becoming longer and wetter as their enthusiasm and confidence grew. Their hips moved against each other, their members colliding again and again, the breathless pants ruining their kisses.

The pale hands that had been at Iruka's hips aiding their grinding let go, moved to the delectable ass he couldn't seem to get enough of today. The younger man kept up their grinding, moaning into the crook of Kakashi's neck as he felt a finger circling his most intimate area.

The teasing continued, the finger doing nothing but dancing around the entrance, increasing Iruka's heavy breaths, making him unable to keep his humping regulated. He tried to urge the roaming digit to do more, but yet again received only feather-light caresses, fraying his already tightened lust.

"Kakashi." The near desperate tone snapped the part of the soldier's mind that wanted to prolong their tryst. Gripping at Iruka's hips, he pulled the both of them to the head of the bed, before flipping their positions.

Kakashi looked down at the sight below him. Iruka looked completely debauched, his robe ruffled and wrinkled as it hung off his shoulders. His neck was peppered with hickeys he'd be angry about tomorrow and his half-dry hair was tangled and tousled beneath him. Feeling a hand travelling up his forearm, he succumbed to the embrace he was pulled into, Iruka's arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him into a deep kiss.

His hand, the one that wasn't massaging Iruka's scalp and keeping their lips connected, gravitated back between his legs, but retreated almost immediately.

"D-do you...uh have you got anything to…"

"Umm...lotion, t-top drawer."

Iruka watched as Kakashi leaned over to the bedside table, fumbling through the drawer for the aforementioned lotion. His eyes were glazed over, watching muscles contract and relax under the porcelain skin of Kakashi's forearms as he shakily lathered his fingers. All previous thought evaporated as the man returned to him, their lips reconnecting for the nth time and a slick digit circling his entrance.

It had been a while and they both could tell, the first finger making Iruka gasp out of the kiss. But, contradictory to his tough soldier persona, Kakashi was slow and gentle, the man beneath him having to prompt him when he was ready for a second and third.

Iruka felt as though he could melt any moment. He was being stimulated in so many places at once he was sure his brain may short-circuit from all the excessive endorphins. Kakashi was playing with his bottom lip, taking it between his teeth, laving it with his tongue before sucking it back into his mouth. The silver-haired man was lying above him, grinding their members together with a delicious friction that had them both panting. If that wasn't enough to deal with, the three digits between his cheeks were unrelenting in their thrusts, a crude mimic of what Kakashi would be doing soon. Gripping the elbow of the arm between his legs, Iruka stilled its movements, pinning Kakashi with a gaze that told him it was time. The older man positioned himself before Iruka, but stilled before he entered. Coffee-coloured eyes looked at him from lids heavy with lust, his cheeks were flushed a rosy red, matching his kiss-swollen lips, the tan chest below him heaving with anticipation and desire. 'Beautiful.'

Kakashi wrapped his arm around Iruka's waist, a hand resting at his coccyx, the other stroking at the skin of his thigh as he slowly entered his tight heat. His eyes were shut, trying to control himself from lunging all the way into the delightfully tight cavern, but he could hear the strained whimpers coming from Iruka.

It took a while before he was fully seated, but once he was he waited, trembling slightly from holding back, but waited until Iruka's brow had softened and his lip had been released from between his teeth.

Kakashi retreated and sank back into the heat with a leisurely pace, the only sounds in the room being the slight rustle of the sheets below them and the soft moans and gasps exchanged between them. Their eyes never left each other, both of them wanting to see the other's expression as they experienced their joint pleasure.

This was possibly more intense than any other coupling either of them had had. There were so many emotions, so much intimacy in this, their first of many unions. It wasn't rushed. It wasn't hasty. It was a moment to be remembered. It was a connection of souls, not just of flesh, and both of them could see it in the other's lust-squinted eyes.

Kakashi's hips continued to roll, but found an angle that made Iruka's eyes widen. A moan with a pitch conveying nothing but pure ecstasy poured from his lips, as he arched off the bed.

"Th-there! Ka-ahh-shi!" If an electric spark could be sweet and pleasurable, that's exactly what Iruka had experienced, and he couldn't help but moan unashamedly as Kakashi stayed there, his thrusts still unhurried, but now with a power behind them, mercilessly hitting his spot over and over again.

The soldier was becoming undone, groaning along to Iruka's moans everytime he hit his prostate as the man's passage would clench deliciously with each strike. He was close, and judging from the nonsensical syllables escaping the brunette and the nails raking at the skin of his shoulders and forearms, Iruka was too.

When he felt Kakashi's hand wrapping around his weeping shaft, the younger man knew he would not last. The familiar coil, winding tighter than he could ever remember, was reaching the end of its tether and, with a few more firm strokes, it unravelled sharp and fast, Kakashi's name falling from his tongue in a pleasured cry.

If the incredible tightening of Iruka's channel wasn't enough, hearing his name called out like that, brought Kakashi over the edge, unable to even moan the name that was on his lips as euphoria stole away all the breath from his lungs.

Both of their consciousnesses started to fade to black, their bodies humming with satisfaction and the need to rest. Between them they only had the energy to roll into a more comfortable sleeping position; Iruka melded to Kakashi's side, who lay on his back, their entwined fingers resting on the steadily rising and falling skin at his chest.

 


	24. Chapter 24

Iruka was melded so closely to the body beside him, their skin connected at every possible surface, he couldn't help but stir when it started to shift. He didn't register anything strange though, shifting with it to accommodate a new sleeping position, his arm still thrown across a taut stomach. He was just drifting back to slumber when the body shifted again, but sharper this time, coupled with a whimper only audible because the room was otherwise silent.

The fog formed by the brunette's lethargy dissipated almost immediately when his brain caught up with him, only now seeing the way Kakashi seemed to shake. The moonlight from the blinds they'd left open gave a hazy image of the paler man's furrowed brows and downturned lips. Quickly fumbling to turn on the bedside lamp, he sat upright, looking down at the body beside him, now noticing fists that seemed to clench and unclench in the sheets.

With one palm on a pale forehead, smoothing from the brow to the hairline, Iruka called Kakashi's name softly and shook at his shoulder gently, wanting to bring him back to reality as calmly as possible. But, Kakashi's brow only seemed to tighten, his body seemingly rigid with tension, even though a slight tremble was visible. Iruka, doubled his efforts to wake the soldier, calling a little louder and shaking a little more insistently.

"Kakashi!"

With a gasp, Kakashi sat bolt upright, the sheets he was still clutching now pooled at his waist, staring at nothing in particular. Iruka noted that the lid of his injured eye had become lax, the red hue of the iris beneath captivating him. Only then did he remember that at the point of orgasm, when Kakashi's eyes had widened in rapture, it had revealed itself to Iruka, like a rare ruby, mesmerising in it's beauty and it's sudden unveiling. But, as the eye remained visible to him, he realised that Kakashi was still out of it.

Pushing stray silver strands away from his forehead and behind his ears, Iruka placed his other hand on the clammy skin of his chest, feeling the thrumming heart beneath it.

"Kakashi." He wasn't answered, but he saw the sheets being released from his fisted grip, his crimson eye locked back behind the security of his scarred lid. Iruka placed a kiss on his temple before breaking the silence. "Are you okay?"

The sigh he received was quiet but the hand still placed on the man's chest felt how deep it was. He felt that same hand surrounded by one of Kakashi's own, watching as he nodded. "Sorry I woke you."

"Don't be. Do you wanna go back to sleep or...do you wanna talk about it?"

"No, no I...you sleep." Iruka furrowed his brow in confusion when his hand was dropped as Kakashi moved to swing his legs off the edge of the bed. He was just about to stand up when a tanned hand caught him at the elbow.

"Wh-where are you going?"

"I just need some air." His hand was shaken off as Kakashi stood, throwing on the robe that had ended up at the bottom of the bed at some point in the night.

The silver-haired man had just opened the bedroom door when Iruka called over to him. "The keys to the back garden are in the drawer under the kitchen sink."

**…**

Kakashi's hands were still shaking slightly, but it only took two tries to get the key in the lock. He opened the door in the corner of the kitchen, walking onto the wooden patio, stopping only when his bare feet met the damp grass. Despite it being almost 3am, as the kitchen clock had told him, it wasn't too dark, the moonlight and the glow of the street lamps at the front of the property letting him see the garden before him.

It was beautiful, but he took no notice of the rose bushes or the vegetable patch. He didn't stop to admire the beautiful pond and its fish at the end of the curvy stoned paving, or the perfectly trimmed grass either side of it. The hammock tied between two trees and the swinging wooden seat by the pond all went unseen, his eye only looking at the half-moon above him and the stars surrounding it.

He inhaled and exhaled, repeatedly and deeply, trying to get himself straight. He felt uneasy and slightly sick, completely unsure of what to do with himself. It was like he was stuck in limbo, graciously thankful that his timely awakening seemed to have erased the memory of what he started to dream about, but still knowing what he probably saw, still feeling the pain and guilt he was sure he would be feeling if he could recall the dream. Was it another replay of the mission? Perhaps it was Obito's scathing contempt against him or the persuasive words of his father offering him an alternative. He could only imagine.

It was an odd state to find himself him. His hands were trembling slightly and his heart rate had yet to return to normality, but compared to how he usually was upon awakening, he was perfectly fine. There were no scenarios playing in his head where he was able to save his friends and he wasn't torturing himself with memories of his mistakes. But, he couldn't go back to sleep, couldn't climb back between the sheets and embrace his lover knowing full well that he didn't deserve to.

_'A drink would be great right now'._

Nothing serious, he thought, nothing to even get him drunk. Just two or three of those glasses of wine. He wouldn't even be finishing a bottle. That was clearly an improvement on his usual consumption. Just a tipple to soothe his conscience, to loosen the tension and unwind the coils of discomfort and distress.

A deep frustrated groan sounded out into the night that would have startled anyone in the vicinity but, being the dead of night, only scattered any nearby critters.

_'What is wrong with me?'_

The thought constantly ran through Kakashi's mind as he raked both his hands through his hair. The sun hadn't even risen since he'd sworn off alcohol and it had barely been five minutes since he'd left the arms and the warmth of the sole reason he'd given up the toxin, yet here he was seriously considering going back on his word.

It wouldn't take long. He could be back before Iruka even woke up really. He had his phone, his wallet and his car keys. A quick call could get him a taxi to the school where he'd retrieve his wine, consume it in the car park if needs be, then return via taxi to the comfort of Iruka's covers. Two hours tops, that's all he'd need, that's all it would take for him to…

To what? What was the point? He couldn't use the excuse of wanting to erase the memory of his sinister nightmares. He could feel the residual guilt of knowing what he probably dreamt of, but that guilt followed him around all the time. It wasn't something that could ever be washed away by alcohol. It could be diluted for sure, but it would always be back. No, he couldn't use that excuse. The only other reasoning he had, the one he'd been using this past week, was that through his drinking, he'd be able to keep his damaged side away from Iruka, allowing them to have the kind of relationship the teacher deserved. But, that couldn't be further from the truth. Drinking would only jeopardise any form of relationship the two of them could have.

So, why was he still thinking about it? Why was his throat suddenly dry with a thirst that would only be quenched by something intoxicating? He didn't need it. In fact, what he needed was to avoid alcohol at all cost. But he wanted it. He wanted it with an intensity he could no longer hide behind the pretence of needing it for one reason or another. His feet wouldn't stop shuffling with the need to leave the house, his fingers twitching for a bottle but, as much as he craved the haze, he knew this craving would only get worse. How would he feel when he actually did have a nightmare? How would he feel if this craving hit again and he was in his apartment, Iruka far from his arms and far from his mind?

Kakashi felt weak at the thought. It would surely be a hopeless endeavour but, for the sake of his own heart, for the sake of Iruka and the love he would risk if he drank again, he would try his damnedest to resist the urge.

He still felt jittery, needing to take more breaths of the crisp night air. The wooden patio was slightly cold as he laid down, but the dark expanse of the night sky above him was a calming sight, bringing to mind the Van Gogh in Iruka's living room.

**…**

Iruka stood at his bedroom window, transfixed by the view before him. Kakashi really was a beautiful sight. His silver locks seemed to capture the moonlight, reflecting it back with an ethereal glow that, as beautiful as it was, paled in comparison to his alabaster skin. He watched on as the man shuffled uncomfortably in his garden, looking as though he was ready to pull out those gorgeous strands. It took a lot of restraint to keep from going down there and comforting him, but from his pacing and hair pulling, Kakashi seemed to need some time alone to think.

The minutes dragged by and the worry only built in the teacher, as he watched the man outside only become more antsy. He wanted the time alone to make the man calmer, not more anxious. He was a minute away from going down to join him, when he saw the man lying flat on his back, eyes aimed at the stars. It didn't take long for his chest to start rising and falling deeply at even intervals, pulling Iruka into action so smoothly it could have rehearsed.

He dressed himself in wooly socks, thick sweatpants and his warmest sweater. Pulling a pillow and the blanket off his bed, he made his way downstairs. He was glad that Kakashi had laid fully on the decking, none of the blanket falling into the moist night grass as he wrapped it around him. Sitting on the pillow he'd repossessed, he blushed at the soreness that brought back heated flashbacks from earlier that night. Were it not for the physical reminder, that moment could have been an age away, in a different place with different people. People with little cares beyond making sure their skin was always connected, people with no worries or thoughts that included anything but the other's body. But as he lay Kakashi's head in his cross-legged lap, careful not wake the surprisingly heavily sleeping man, the worries piling in his mind were too many to mention. As he eased his fingers through silver locks though, he resolved to not only face those worries, but shatter them with solutions he would spend the night figuring out.

**…**

The third time Kakashi woke up wasn't from the gentle shaking of his shoulders or the soft voice of his boyfriend, but the barking of the dog in the garden beside them. The sun wasn't at it's highest point in the sky, but the morning had long since dawned, surprising him. The last time he'd been awoken, with perspiration on his forehead despite the chilly air and the feeling of his heart pounding against his ribcage, the sun had yet to rise only being an hour after the near-nightmare he'd had around 3am.

Tipping his head backwards so he could see the face of the lap he was cradled in, he could only just now hear the soft snores. He could see light bags under his closed eyes and winced when he looked at the undoubtedly uncomfortable position he must have slept in the entire night. As fatigued as he looked, Iruka's resting face was still a beauty; his pouty lips slightly parted and his hair ruffled all over the place. As often as they'd slept in the same bed, he'd never really stopped to appreciate his partner's handsomeness on a morning. Shifting so he could get a better look, he felt his shoulders jostled as Iruka's tired eyes fluttered open.

"W-wake up 'Kashi."

Kakashi sighed with a sad smile. Wasn't it only a few months ago Kakashi found himself with nothing; without his closest friends or his career to fill the void of his already present lack of family or love? But here he was, in the arms of someone, who cared for him more than he cared for his own health and rest. If yesterday he realised he loved Iruka, this morning he realised how much the other must have cared for him in return.

His expression was riddled with shame as he raised himself from Iruka's lap, holding out a hand for the man and pulling him off the ground too. In his languor, the teacher looked confused but seemed satisfied as long as Kakashi was awake, not protesting as he was lead into the house, pillow and blanket forgotten on the decking.

They were already in the bedroom when Kakashi broke the silence. "I'm gonna have a shower and attempt to make something edible in the kitchen, so get some sleep."

"Huh?" Kakashi felt the sleeve of the robe he wore being tugged back. "Why would I sleep? You go shower, I'll make breakfast."

"You didn't sleep well, Iruka."

"Neither did you."

"Not true." He placed his hand over Iruka's cheek, moving so his fingers were tangled in brown tresses, his thumb gingerly stroking over his puffy eyelid. "This is the most rested I've felt on a morning in a long time. I don't want you to sacrifice your sleep for mine again but...I…" He couldn't think of a good enough way to show his gratitude so pulled the man closer, nuzzling their cheeks together as he mumbled a 'thank you' into his temple.

"Hmm, I'm glad." Kakashi felt a small smile against his cheek as arms encircled his waist. "But I can take a couple of all-nighters."

Pulling back he fixed Iruka with a stern look. "Promise me you won't do this again. It's not a big deal if I lose sleep. You have a job and responsibilities."

"If I have to wake up every three hours to stop your nightmares, so be it. We're in this together."

Kakashi couldn't restrain his desire to kiss Iruka in that moment. His gratitude poured through his lips and his tongue as he molded them with Iruka's, extra sleep being the last thing from both their minds as their arms folded around each other's bodies. Last night's passion seemed to have been picked up wherever they had dropped it somewhere between the bedroom and the garden.

The soldier felt himself moving towards Iruka's retreating lips, opening his eye in question, only to close it again at the feel of those soft lips against his exposed neck, his fingers still buried in those brunette tresses making sure that mouth wouldn't stop. When it finally did he couldn't hold back a frown, which quickly disappeared as he felt his hand pulled, leading him through to the bathroom.

Closing the door behind him, Kakashi rested his back on it, watching spellbound as Iruka rid himself of fluffy socks, the big sweater being removed to reveal a tan stomach, chest and heavily love-bitten neck. Iruka turned away from him, opening the shower door to turn the faucet. The man still glued to the door felt his pulse quicken, much more pleasantly than it did when he'd woken up, as he watched the grey sweatpants fall to the bathroom floor. Iruka walked under the shower's spray, the door left open in invitation, an invitation Kakashi enthusiastically accepted, his robe falling as he walked into the cubicle.

**…**

The whole shower and dressing took at least three times longer than usual, but Iruka wasn't complaining. His fingers seemed more interested in running across pale muscles than actually getting dressed, and Kakashi's fingers seemed to share that sentiment. Horny teenagers; that's how they were acting, unable to go a few minutes without indulging in the addicting rush they got from their skin and lips against the other's skin and lips.

It was well past midday when they finally found themselves clothed, although Kakashi's hands running underneath his t-shirt, didn't seem to approve of this fact, pushing the offending article further up his chest to tease at his nipples. Gasping out of the kiss, Iruka placed his hands on Kakashi's wrists, taking a few deep breaths so he could form his words.

"W-we should go downstairs. Umm...we haven't eaten or anything so we...we should do that."

"Sure that's what you want?" Kakashi's smirk could possibly be his undoing. It was a sinfully seductive side of him Iruka wasn't used to, but welcomed with open arms (and legs).

"No, so let's go before I change my mind." He reluctantly pulled himself from Kakashi's grasp, turning his back to that sexy smirk and amused chuckle.

He wasn't really hungry. How could he think of food when other organs were much more insistent on what they wanted? No, he wasn't hungry, but his stomach was churning with an anxiety his libido could only ignore for so long. He had ideas and plans that he had devised and thought through in the intervals of Kakashi's awakenings and now he just wanted to tell them to the man himself. That's where the nerves were coming from. What if Kakashi wasn't as enthusiastic about his plans? More worryingly though, what would he do if all his ideas failed? He had to be realistic. The chances of his sleep-deprived musings being the answer to Kakashi's alcoholism were so low it was laughable. But if he ever wanted to sleep again, it was worth a try.

Entering the kitchen and pulling open the fridge in the hopes of seeing something hunger-inspiring, Iruka couldn't help but feel a little stifled. It was the first time since waking that they had put their lust on the backburner, a silence falling between them that brought to mind the heated conversation they'd had the last time they were in this kitchen.

Shutting the fridge, the brunette turned to see Kakashi leaning on his table, a silver brow raised in question at the lack of ingredients, which Iruka answered with a shrug.

"I changed my mind."

"Does that mean we can go back upstairs?" The wickedly sexy smirk returned to Kakashi's lips so quick Iruka couldn't help but chuckle at the light switch that was his sexual appetite.

"Nope." Laughing wholeheartedly as the kicked-puppy expression on his supposedly older boyfriend's face, he took a hold of his wrist, leading him from the table to the front door. "I got a better idea."

**…**

The afternoon sun shone through the many trees above them, random splodges of shade being cast down on the grass below and the devoured picnic upon it. The old lady's deli, among the cluster of shops at the mouth of the park, really was as good as Iruka had said. With a belly full of sandwiches, a sturdy tree trunk behind him and an afternoon breeze playing lightly in the tips of his hair, he couldn't help but let out a contented sigh, his head resting on the bark as he closed his eyes for a moment.

He could hear Iruka shuffling to his left, enjoying this sense more than the sight of the park in the sunshine, more than fresh smell of newly cut grass and the feel of it tickling his palms, even more than the lingering taste of the old lady's pork cutlet sandwich he'd enjoyed the most and would definitely return for. That sound was a reminder that he wasn't alone, that he had someone to share these moments with. No, that he had someone to give him these moments.

But, as the shuffling continued, he turned to see the object of his thoughts wringing the brown wrapping of one of their sandwiches, his brow furrowed and his eyes unfocused over the fields before them.

"What's on your mind, dolphin?"

"I didn't like that nickname when I was eight, Kakashi. That fact hasn't changed." The glare he received was so half-hearted, Kakashi couldn't help but smile.

"You know I only used it to annoy you. You always fought much better when you were riled up."

The memory of how he'd fight with extra fervor, determined to prove he wasn't some weak kid in front of his cool sensei, had Iruka's blush diluting the glare he still tried to maintain. "Hmm. Well it still works, so cut it out unless you want your ass kicked...scarecrow."

Kakashi snorted in amusement, his hands raised in surrender, pulling a smile from the brunette. "That reminds me, you were wrong yesterday."

"What about?"

"You said I didn't have anything of you in my house." He smirked at the look of confusion on his younger companion. "Remember the gift you got me for my eighteenth birthday?"

He watched as coffee-coloured eyes widened in realisation, his lips parting and uniting twice before he was able to speak. "Y-you kept...you still...I didn't think-"

"It kind of became a...a mascot for me while I was on missions. A reminder of...happier times, when things in the field got a bit difficult." Kakashi could feel heat rising in his cheeks, looking away from Iruka's still widened eyes to reduce the embarrassment of his admission. He felt warm hands come to rest at either side of his face, guiding him to hazel eyes that sparkled with something he knew would brighten even the darkest of days.

"And all that time I thought of you'd forget me," Iruka whispered pulling their faces closer.

Kakashi could only mumble a 'never' in the whisker of space between them before their lips connected in a kiss that quickly took both their breaths away. They parted only at the sound of a nearby barking dog, looking up to see an excitable golden retriever pulling on the leash of his owner. The blushing girl smiled in apology, pulling the big dog away from the food wrappers that had attracted him in the first place.

The humiliation of being caught in a liplock, more appropriate for a pair ten years younger, was weighed down by the comedy of the whole situation, their blushes barely noticeable as they snickered at the retreating form of the girl and her dog.

"Hey, you're not allergic to any animals, right?" Kakashi raised an eyebrow at the strange question, but shook his head in the negative anyway. "Okay, good. That's good." The younger man nodded, narrowing his eyes in a conspiratorial way that had the soldier curious.

"What are you plotting?" Iruka was silent for longer than Kakashi would have liked, his nervous habit of biting his lip rearing it's head and telling the soldier this was serious. "Iruka?"

"I've been doing some thinking about...about you and about...your drinking." Kakashi winced but said nothing, having expected this conversation to arise soon enough. "I'm not going to force you to go back to your AA meetings because I know you don't want to. But, would you at least think about it?"

His pale jaw clenched and unclenched as he remembered the mournful aura that hung over those meetings. He never really understood how being around people with problems on par, or worse, than his own was suddenly meant to solve anything. Hearing Anko retell how her snaky sensei gained her trust and groomed her only to use her in the worst possible way, before abandoning her for newer, younger students, or Nagato's constant reminders of the lack of peace in the world, wasn't his idea of a remedy. It didn't make him think these people were struggling just like he was and they were getting through it without alcohol, nor did it make him want to spill his guts to a roomful of strangers in the hopes of feeling better.

He looked up at Iruka's hopeful eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry 'Ruka but, I'd rather not. I just...I know it won't help."

"But, that's what aunt Tsunade said at first. There's a reason it's so popular Kakashi, it's worked for a lot of people, but it's not gonna work for you if you don't give it a proper chance."

"I did give it a chance. It's just not for me."

Iruka sighed, but the look of determination told the soldier the conversation was far from done. "Okay. Let's make a deal. AA will be our last resort. We'll try other things, but if we fail and you fall of the wagon again, it's back to the meetings every friday."

There was no arguing with the stern teacher look. He couldn't say no or even aim for a compromise of it being the second time he fell of the wagon, which in his opinion was much fairer. He nodded with a mumbled 'deal' before his brain caught up with the rest of Iruka's sentence.

"Exactly what are these other things you want to try?"

"Well I was thinking – and don't shoot this down because I've gone through all the pros and cons and I'm positive this is a good idea – that you shouldmoveinwithme."

Kakashi stilled, disbelieving that he'd deciphered those rushed words correctly. "You...what?"

"I want you to move in with me."

Beneath his mane of silver, Kakashi brain was whirring with images of what this would entail. Waking up everyday to Iruka, being in the man's presence as often as possible. Being able to experience that laughter seven days a week instead of just three and hearing all his daily anecdotes while curled together on the sofa instead of over the phone. They could have breakfast every morning and dinner every night. If he played his cards right those shared showers could become part of a regular routine. The memory of their slippery bodies conjoined in a lover's embrace, the hot steam around them rising and billowing with their lust, brought back the memory of their night. If they lived together he could be one with Iruka everyday, he could hear those moans and groans, hear his name gasped in ecstasy and see that ecstasy as clear as day on Iruka's face, before sleeping in each other arms everyday.

But, just like that, the image that he'd created of a happy, horny home disintegrated around him when he remembered who he was; a damaged mess. How could he do that to Iruka? Living with him would mean the teacher would have to bear the brunt of all his bad dreams, seeing him at his worst and having to deal with it. The night before was fine, but what would happen when the fatigue caught up with Iruka and Kakashi slept through a whole nightmare. He knew himself, he knew what he'd be like and he knew if he wasn't drinking he'd be a hundred times worse.

"Iruka, I don't think-"

"No Kakashi, I'm serious about this. I already know it's not gonna be easy and, believe me, I know all the reasons why this wouldn't be a good idea. But, I really think this would be the best thing for us."

"I agree, living together would be advantageous. I love your home and I'd love to live there...eventually." He watched as Iruka's lips downturned at the end of the sentence, quickly continuing so as to persuade the teacher. "When things are better, when...when I'm better, that's when-"

"And hows that gonna happen, Kakashi? How will you get better, how is anything supposed to change, if you don't change anything? As soon as Sunday night comes round you'll go back to your apartment and the cycle is just going to start again."

The defensive part of the older man flared up, feeling offended and degraded even though he knew Iruka's words were spot on. "So basically you want me to move in with you so you can keep an eye on me."

"Wha- Kakashi, you know I don't mean it like that. I want to live with you. I want to be able to see you, and talk to you and kiss you everyday. Of course in normal circumstances we would have waited a while, but if it'll also help you stay away from the alcohol then there's every reason to do it now!"

What could he say to that? What argument could he possibly use to defy the perfect logic Iruka had used? He wanted it too after all, there wasn't a single tie he had to that apartment and the thought of being back to it's silence made him want to agree wholeheartedly. But still, his insecurities prevented him taking the final plunge. Those insecurities and emotions he'd done well to smother all his life would be laid out like a smorgasbord of reasons Iruka would be better off without him. Surely a week or two in the company of who Kakashi really was would have the teacher running for the hills. He knew Iruka cared for him, but there would always be a limit and he knew being in the company of a sober Kakashi, harrowed by continuous night terrors would surely reach and surpass that limit.

"Iruka, I just...I know I'm going to be...difficult, to live with." He knew it was a major understatement, and from the way Iruka's eyes closed for a few seconds, a deep breath being taken into his lungs as his jaw tightened, Iruka knew it too. His next words, as quiet and shaky as they were, confirmed it.

"Kakashi...'Kashi believe me, I know how hard it'll be. I'm pretty certain you don't remember but I've seen you at, if not pretty damn close to, your worst – Tsunade too. I'm hoping for the best, but I'm prepared for the worst, Kakashi. Like I said, we're in this together, no matter how difficult it'll be, we are in this together."

Kakashi didn't believe in any gods and if karma was a real phenomena it certainly wouldn't grant him anything good in return, but he had to believe there was some sort of higher power looking favourably upon him. Where it had been the rest of his life, he didn't know nor care to question, but it had to be more than luck that put him here with Iruka, that sent him this saviour. And he was grateful, too grateful to properly express that to the brunette, only nodding his agreement that yes, they were in this together and yes, he would move in with him.

Iruka crossed the inches between them, taking hold of his face as he'd done not long ago, kissing him so soundly the older man felt a moan bubbling in his throat, and Kakashi surrendered to it. He surrendered to Iruka, feeling light-headed at the control his lover had, sweeping his tongue freely and confidently across every nerve-ending of his tongue. It occurred to him that living with the younger man, moulding his life to fit Iruka's, the independence and control he'd had over his own life since he was eleven was being handed over like a baton. The thought both terrified and thrilled him but the latter was much more prominent, the dizzying heat of lust engulfing him as Iruka pressed him slow but insistently against the tree.

Exhibitonism didn't seem to be the teacher's thing though, pulling back before the heat ignited something unwise in a family park while the sun was still up. The desire to go further was still clearly evident in the pair, half-lidded eyes stating as such and kiss-swollen lips wearing a lusty grin or sensual smirk.

The feel of oxygen back in his brain instead of heading south or being sucked into Iruka's lungs, had Kakashi's brain fully functioning again, a thought occurring to him as it does. "You never explained what my being allergic to animals has to do with any of this."

He didn't get an answer but the mischievous glint in hazel eyes had him worried all the same.

**…**

Iruka couldn't keep the grin off his face as they drove away from his house. It wasn't far but the excitement that had been brewing since he came up with the idea was starting to bubble over.

"At least give me a clue."

"Nope. We're not far Kakashi, you'll see when we get there." There was a chance the older man wouldn't share his enthusiasm, but he tried to stave off those negative thoughts, the houses becoming few and far between as they got closer to their destination.

INUZUKA VETERINARY PRACTICE AND KENNELS

The big white sign written in burgundy red, standing out starkly against the shrubbery at the mouth of the dirt road that Iruka turned into, didn't keep the teacher's secret a secret for long. He could feel Kakashi's questioning look on him, but his eyes remained solidly locked on the road before him, not wanting to meet his gaze incase it was unimpressed or disinterested.

They came into the car park, the Inuzuka establishment and it's fields now completely visible to them both. The front looked like any other vet's, but signs guiding visitors around the back of the building led to a series of grassed enclosures. The engines roar died leaving the two in the silence of car, the sounds of outside – the cars, the people and dogs – making the quiet even more evident.

"Unless you're ill and you take your namesake more seriously than I'd thought, I'm going to assume we're here for the kennels." The tone was too dry to gauge any real emotion so Iruka chanced a glance at his companion, breathing a sigh of relief when all he saw was an eyebrow raised in question. It wasn't exactly joy but it definitely wasn't contempt, so he turned fully in his seat, facing Kakashi with a hopeful look as he explained why they were there.

"I think you should get a dog." Silver brows pulled together forming ridges on his forehead, but Iruka continued nonetheless. "I know it's random, but Hana, my friend and the older sister of one of my students, is always trying to get me to get a dog. I don't know how many times she's rattled off the benefits to me and, when I thought about it I realised a dog would be perfect for you."

The look of confusion molded into a look of scepticism. "On what grounds?"

Iruka parted off his lips to speak, but when he actually thought about it, he bit his lips, reluctant to tell Kakashi exactly why he thought it would it would be a good idea. What could he say? The truth was that having a canine companion would give the teacher something to focus his attention on when he was at the school. It hadn't crossed his attention that Kakashi's cravings seemed to disappear when they were in each other's company or when he was teaching Naruto and Sasuke. Being alone clearly gave the soldier time for his mind to wander, time for him to wear away any objections he may have to drinking. Moving in together would solve half of this problem, but Iruka still had to teach. That was eight hours a day Kakashi would have to endure the urge to drink, eight hours he would be left alone to his thoughts with nothing physical preventing him from reaching for a drink.

Iruka wasn't delusional. He didn't think the presence of a dog alone would suddenly deter his alcoholic tendencies. It was more to do with what the dog would stand for; a tangible reminder, an actual obstacle that could act as a deterrent. In his lone sleep-deprived musings, the teacher had pictured it all, how the dog would yap at his heels demanding a walk or a feed or a game, keeping the man sufficiently occupied until he returned from the school.

Far fetched, maybe, but it would certainly do more good than harm. From what he'd gathered through their phone conversations, Kakashi didn't do much of anything in his weekdays. When he'd thought about it, it was almost a set-up for failure; an alcoholic with too much time on his hands and nothing to keep him company but his thoughts. The thought had occurred to Iruka that a job would solve this problem instantaneously, but he'd discarded that idea just as quickly. At the thought of the older man going back to work, a sliver of fear had overtaken the teacher at the prospect of Kakashi returning to the army. Even if Kakashi himself wasn't keen to return to the battlefield, it wasn't a conversation Iruka wanted to ignite just incase he did.

Short of installing cameras in his home or making Kakashi sit in the back of all his classes, there wasn't much Iruka could do to prevent a relapse. But neither of these appealed to him. He was Kakashi's partner, not his warden or his caretaker, and he wanted to keep it that way. So, remembering Hana's ramblings, Iruka had immediately latched on to the idea.

Still, he couldn't exactly rattle off all these reasons to Kakashi, and the man was still waiting for an explanation.

"I just...trust me on this, okay? I think this would be a good idea."

**…**

Any thought of protesting died down as soon as Iruka had uttered that one word. Trust.

It was such a loaded concept, a word that carried more weight than it was worth and Kakashi was unfortunately on the wrong side of it. It was surprising really, how Iruka could still tolerate his presence knowing he'd been lied to all week. Maybe his trust in him to begin with was so great, or maybe Iruka cared too much for him to let go of the last shred of trust he still had in him. He didn't know but he wouldn't question it. Not only would he not question it, he had already resigned himself to do everything in his power to gain that trust back.

If that meant getting a dog, so be it.

Though the younger man didn't give him a reason beyond it being a 'good idea', Kakashi knew his intentions. Being a soldier of his calibre, it had become second nature to look underneath the underneath, anticipating the enemy's attack by thinking two steps ahead of them.

It wasn't exactly a good use of his skills, but he could read Iruka like a pop-up book. Getting a dog would give him something to focus his thoughts on while he was alone. If there was another living entity around him, demanding attention, he might be less inclined to reach for the bottle at the first thought of his past.

Working out the logic didn't make it any less patronising though, the fact that Iruka thought his issues would be resolved by a little bundle of fur. Still, as he looked into the big, black eyes of the tan pug he'd adopted (the only one that didn't seem too young or too rambunctious) he couldn't help but hope it would offer even a sliver of respite from the brutality of his memories once Iruka had left his side.

**…**

The exhaustion from a night of fitful, fleeting sleep, an afternoon of traipsing round parks and getting acquainted with a kennel of excitable hounds and an evening of making his home doggy friendly, had finally caught up to Iruka. He'd barely crawled under the covers and already his eyelids were heavy with fatigue, the crook of Kakashi's neck and the musky scent of his skin a welcome solace from the busyness of the day.

He heard a mumbled goodnight from the man himself and, as if knowing this was the last chance to raise any concerns before the morning, his mind began waving a red flag, reminding him to speak now. Propping himself up on his elbow, he got the attention of Kakashi below him, who opened his eye, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Umm sorry, I just, I don't want to sleep without talking about tomorrow". Silver browns scrunched in confusion and Iruka breathed in deeply before getting his thoughts off his chest. "I know I've brought it up twice already but I can't help but still be worried."

Kakashi didn’t want to talk about this. The entire day he’d done a great job keeping his father’s memories at bay and, without a shadow of a doubt he knew tomorrow would not be as easy. But Iruka had that determined look in his eyes so he turned on side to face Iruka who had done the same.

"Are you absolutely sure you don't want to do anything tomorrow? I just...I don't like the idea of ignoring it and pretending tomorrow is a normal day. It can't be healthy and, I don't know, I'm just scared suppressing it might have bad side effects. We could go to his grave or-"

"Iruka, I appreciate it, really I do. I love that you care about me enough to worry about this stuff, and if it were anything else I'd hear you out. I-" Kakashi sigh heavily, hand raking through his hair as he struggled with the prospect of opening up so completely.

He was silent for a few minutes, looking into the darkness of their room as though deep in thought. Iruka was almost sure the conversation had come to an end, resigning himself to leave the topic unless Kakashi seemed out of sorts the next day, before he felt cool fingers reaching out for his own and lacing them together.

With a clear of his throat, Kakashi tried again, his tone slow and soft. "I have no idea how to get rid of these nightmares. I want to close my eyes and not see my dead comrades, to go through a day where I don't have to feel so heavy with guilt, but I don't know how. If I didn't have you, I-I'm pretty sure I'd never be sober just so I wouldn't have to think"

Iruka squeezed his hand tighter, his bottom lip trembling at the heartbreaking tone of his companion.

"It may not have solved my problems completely, but whatever you're doing, whatever it is you've brought to my life is slowly working. I don't feel like their ghosts are following me when I'm with you, and for that I'm so grateful. I'm at the point where I'm willing to try anything you want me to, get a dog, move in with you, anything because I have no idea how to get rid of these nightmares but you...you seem to be helping.

"I'm totally in the dark when it comes to this, but when it concerns my father...well, I've had sixteen years of dealing with his death. When I say I don't want to do anything tomorrow, I know what I'm talking about. Of all the days in the year, the anniversary of his death is the very last on the list of when I'd like to think of him. He...he was a good dad, for all eleven years of it and...that's how I want to remember him, not tomorrow, not when it'll remind me of...of how he left me. So yes Iruka, I'm absolutely sure I don't want to do anything tomorrow".

Iruka didn't know why there was moisture behind his eyes, but he did his best to not let it leak anyway. He swallowed to clear the lump in his throat but found he couldn't, nodding anyway to express his understanding. He felt terrible for what must have been a patronising assumption on his part, but equally elated at Kakashi's previous declarations at the good he was doing in the older man's life. His lips seemed unable to function words but they functioned perfectly when locked with Kakashi's lips, a soft but demanding kiss that said what he couldn't articulate.

They lay back underneath the sheets, the crook of Kakashi's neck once again a home for Iruka and Iruka's arms a gate wrapped around Kakashi to keep the demons at bay.

 

  



	25. Chapter 25

Kakashi was startled awake by something. What exactly, he wasn't sure, but that was of little concern when the side of his face was laid in a damp cool patch, his puffy eyes seemingly the culprit. And just like that, the momentary blank state of mind from freshly awakening, a courtesy his usual night terrors did not allow, sank like the tears he had unwillingly shed through the night.

It was like this every year. Like the finely tuned machine it was, his body seemed to know, seemed to sense the occasion and act accordingly. He did not want to cry, did not want to shed a single tear or carry around the burden of loneliness his father had placed upon him, but on this day alone he did. It was unlike the grief he carried for his comrades. He deserved that. He deserved to lose his sleep and his sanity – a small price in comparison to the lives Rin and Obito lost due to his recklessness. He deserved to carry that grief and would do so until his soul was no more.

This, he did not deserve. Not at eleven and not now, at twenty-seven. He'd been dropped into a bottomless pit of solitude the day his father decided his life was no longer worth living and, though the years had given him time to cope, to deal with the loneliness, on this day it still burned with the same intensity. Today, like then, he was left feeling something that, every other day he vowed to never feel – vulnerable.

Before his thoughts got too sombre, the sound that had awoken him piped up again; the unmistakable scratching of claws on the other side of the bedroom, a pitiful wail accompanying it. His lagging brain took a few moments to remember he was now the proud owner of an animal that was currently forcing him out of the warmth of his bed at 8.43 on a Sunday morning. He would have groaned in annoyance but was aware of Iruka's still steady snores, a quick glance at his mussed hair and slack jaw making his lips twitch upwards despite the day.

Grabbing the same robe from the night before, he crept out of the room to be met with a decidedly grumpy-looking pug, his paws padding impatiently in one spot. A quick peek in the box room Iruka had graciously placed the dog bed from the kennel’s shop, he was pleased to see Pakkun really was as trained as Tsume Inuzuka had said. The dog followed behind him as he unlocked the back door, running off to relieve itself while Kakashi sat cross-legged in the position he had slept the night before.

Rin was always yacking about the benefits of meditation to ease one's mind when emotions were running rampant, but he'd always found Obito's prescription of drinking himself near-comatose much more effective. If they were not on a mission, that's definitely what they'd be doing today. Obito would have seen him moping around, his eyes red and distant, and would have slapped him on the back, told him to look into allergy tablets for the hay fever he got at this time of year, and dragged him away to the nearest drinking establishment. He would wake up the next day missing his memory and most of his stomach's contents, but once again content with his place in the world.

God, he could use a drink.

He closed his eyes, attempting the whole meditation thing, deep breathing like Rin had tried instructing, but all he saw behind his eyelids was a pool of red on the living room's cream carpet, his eyes once again prickling with moisture.

Just as he could feel himself sinking once again, he heard the kitchen door creaking open. The heel of his palms came up to massage at his eyelids; he'd be damned if he was to actually be caught tearing up. He was pretty sure the compassionate teacher in Iruka would not pretend it was allergies but instead hound him to open up and get all mushy with his feelings. That was so far away from what he needed right now.

Obscuring his own vision he didn't see Iruka petting Pakkun, didn't see him return into the house to emerge minutes later with a bowl of dog food and didn't see him fill the new water bowl beside that. All he could hear were the padding of paws and feet, his back tensing every time they got closer, relaxing whenever they were muffled in the house. He was almost content going back to his brooding when Iruka had been in the house for a little longer, only to hear him coming back, presumably with socks if the duller sound of his feet were any indication. He didn't stop this time, Kakashi getting more tense the closer he got to him, the muscles in his back completely rigid as Iruka stopped to sit right behind him.

Kakashi heaved a long-suffering, just waiting for the tirade of comforting words that would undoubtedly pour from the brunette. Most people would have welcomed it with open arms, sought it out even, but Kakashi was not most people. This is not something he wanted to discuss, it wasn't something he wanted to articulate or share.

He waited, his dismissal ready on the tip of his tongue. He could feel the hesitation in the man behind him and, when Iruka took a deep breath, Kakashi's lips parted, 'not right now' ready to fall from them. But, as warm arms encircled his waist, a head laid at the top of his spine, Kakashi’s words died as nothing but a sigh. He relished in the warmth, closed his eyes to enjoy the closeness, but still he waited, the tension never ceasing as he anticipated the speech that would surely trickle into his ear soon.

A minute became five, five became fifteen and still Iruka held him, no sound escaping the teacher, no movement beside the rise and fall of his chest at Kakashi's back. Before he knew it, all that tension had evaporated into the morning air, his body pliant and accepting of Iruka's touch. Flashbacks of the articles and pictures from his father's death were still coming at him like breaking news but the edges were fuzzing, the voice of the broadcasters he still remembered becoming dimmer as he began to feel less vulnerable, less alone. That dark abyss of abandonment didn't feel so cold right now and it definitely wasn't desolate.

His hands came to rest upon the ones at his stomach, caressing the skin there in his first acknowledgement of Iruka since he came in the garden. The cheek pressed against his back shifted, what felt like a kiss being dropped at the base of his spine.

"Morning." Iruka's voice was low as though not to break the spell of dark serenity in the garden.

Again, Kakashi couldn't stop the twitch of his lips as they attempted to lift despite his grieving.

"Morning."

"I'm gonna get the coffee machine going. Want a cup?"

"You have a coffee machine?”

"How else would I be perky enough to handle those brats at nine every morning?" Kakashi, despite himself, snorted his amusement, not missing the absolute affection in the insult to his students. He lamented the loss of warmth when Iruka got up, turning to watch this time as he disappeared into the kitchen.

How did he do it? How did Iruka just seem to know what he needed? Kakashi was sure he'd been described as an enigma on more than one occasion. He was difficult to read and even harder to predict, but Iruka did it with a practiced ease that was admirable, if not slightly unsettling. Was it the six years they'd spent alongside each other? Had he had an early insight into his psyche and could now expertly decipher his actions? Maa, the theory was irrelevant, as long as he stayed.

He wasn't a coffee person usually, using it out of necessity rather than enjoyment, but perhaps that was because of the cheap quality of their mission rations. The latte Iruka made him was delightful, the richness warming his insides while the younger man warmed his outside, their shoulders and thighs brushing as they sat on the living room's shabby brown sofa.

"You hungry?" He shook his head to Iruka's question, his appetite unsurprisingly absent. "Hmm, me neither. We can't miss lunch though, we'll need our energy after all."

Kakashi turned away from whatever was on the tv to look at Iruka, his tan hands cradling his cup and his feet curled underneath himself, brown locks fluffed around the shoulders of his creased pyjama top. The innocent, at-home look, didn't divert from the conspiratorial smirk behind the coffee cup.

"Sitting around doing nothing doesn't usually require energy, does it?"

"No, but that's not the plan for today."

Kakashi couldn't hold in his groan or the roll of his eye. Just when he thought Iruka was some sort of Kakashi-expert, the teacher's true nature had to reappear. "That's my plan for today."

Iruka snorted, still seemingly engrossed in the television. "We'll see."

**…**

It hadn't been hard to pry Kakashi away from the sofa, but Iruka was known for his persistence. Still, as they drove away from the suburbs, the silver-haired man looked like a petulant child, reluctant to go to school but powerless to persuade his parent otherwise. Ironically they were heading for the school and Iruka could see the confusion in Kakashi's eye as they pulled into the almost empty parking lot.

He stopped the car, next to the only other car there, turning his smile to Kakashi's raised eyebrow, answering the question that was written on his pale features. "We need both cars."

"Wha- I thought you wanted to take Pakkun on a walk or something. Where are we going?" The dog on his lap perked an ear at his name but otherwise didn't move an inch, too busy enjoying the hand Kakashi was reluctant to admit was absent mindedly scratching behind his ear.

Iruka had been waiting all morning for Kakashi to question why he was being forced to get ready and out the house before 10am, but it never came. It was a testament to how distracted the older man was today but the brunette continued the day as he would any other, still rambling as he usually would, except strategically timed for those moments Kakashi seemed to be drowning into his thoughts. He'd decided almost immediately after Kakashi told him he didn't want to do anything to commemorate the day, that he would keep the soldier busy through other means.

"Kakashi, unless you want to wear my clothes for the foreseeable future, we need to move your stuff into mine. You've already stolen my robe, I can't risk you making anymore of my stuff yours." Iruka watched as Kakashi's initial confusion bled away into surprise before he gave a tiny quirk of lips, one he was sure would have been a full blown smirk on any other day.

**…**

By midday Kakashi had to admit that Iruka really was a genius. Between trying to pack his belongings in the boxes he'd never thrown away from when he moved in, trying to stop Pakkun curling up on the many piles of clothes he'd deemed suitable beds and engaging in his usual back and forth banter with Iruka, there was barely enough time for his father to cross his mind, let alone haunt it.

His smirk wasn't as easy to place on his face and his comebacks weren't as sharp nor was he exuding his usual cool composure, but the fact he's still standing, still talking, still smiling, was a miracle in itself.

Despite his lack of appetite, his stomach agreed wholeheartedly when Iruka expressed a desire for pizza, so an hour later found them around his kitchen table with a medium four cheese pizza, a medium meat feast pizza and a stack of fries that were being sneakily fed by them both to Pakkun under the table. They were in the midst of a gripping debate about whether pineapple was a legitimate pizza topping when a series of desperate knocks came to his door.

There was a moment of dumbfoundment for Kakashi, completely lost as to who would be at his door if Iruka was with him. Rising from the table, aware of his companion’s questioning eyes, he walked to the door.

He'd only just opened the door when he found himself attacked by green, strong arms gripping him tightly around the shoulders. Kakashi didn't count himself as someone who was shocked easily, but even on a normal day, it would certainly have taken him a few moments to recover from such an impromptu embrace. Had he not heard the stifled snort of Iruka in the kitchen doorway, he may have still been shocked to a standstill.

"Umm, hey Gai. Everything..okay?"

The hands around him shakily retreated and Kakashi could see Gai's bushy eyebrows, more drawn together than he'd ever seen them before. They were quite distracting, even more so than when they jumped around when he was particularly excited about something. They were distracting, but not enough for Kakashi to miss the look of absolute anxiety on his friend's face.

"Gai, seriously, are you okay man?" The man in question only gaped for a moment, but it was long enough for Kakashi to genuinely worry about the wellbeing of a man who he'd never known to be at a loss for words.

"I-I came to ask you the same thing." Silver brows, although not as comically, furrowed as well, and the two men stood in confusion.

"Good afternoon Gai, would you like to sit, we have pizza." Iruka piped up from leaning on the doorframe, his hand on the shoulder of a green jumpsuit, guiding them both to sit at the kitchen table. "How've you been? The last time I saw you you mentioned something about a windfall of new students at the dojo."

Kakashi remembered Iruka telling him how he'd bumped into Gai at the supermarket two weeks ago and was detained for almost twenty minutes as he sprouted random stories to him. That was the Gai he knew, not this man who, by all accounts looked stupefied. He let Pakkun jump onto his lap, a spot he could tell the pug had already claimed as his own, hoping the teacher would be able to coax the karate expert out of his stupor.

"Yeah…it-it's been busy. The bountiful reserve of youthful energy my students have is...astounding, but I keep them on their toes." Gai's colorful hyperbole seeping back into conversation was certainly a good sign and Kakashi couldn't help but smile at Iruka. Perhaps the brunette was just an expert in people. He continued with questions until Gai was openly speaking of his new students and relaying a story of how he was challenged by one of them to spar while carrying another student on his shoulders, and he did so successfully. Iruka's hearty laugh pulling a smile from both he and Gai.

"I think Pakkun might need to go outside. Back in ten." The dog in question hadn't so much as flinched in Kakashi's lap so the older man knew that couldn't be true, but still Iruka rounded the table, picking the pug from his lap and proceeding to leave the two men in the silence of the kitchen. Silence, Kakashi realised, Iruka had granted them to speak privately.

"So…"

"My dear friend, I'm afraid in my feverish attempt to fulfill my duties as a trusted companion, I may have overreacted. My overzealous imagination concocted hundreds of scenarios and explanations as to my inability to contact you this weekend and, upon reaching out to Lady Tsunade and hearing that you decided to forgo your AA meetings, well...my distress catapulted to a truly unhealthy proportion. I am astonished, but oh so relieved to see that you appear to be well. Better, in fact, than I have seen you in a long time."

It was a shame really that Gai's decision to teach and his own decision to continue to progress in the Konoha Army sent them their separate ways because, in this moment, Kakashi remembered how good of a friend he had in the other man. He was quirky but he cared and, between him and Iruka, Kakashi felt incredibly lucky despite everything.

"I'm sorry for making you worry Gai but, it's nice to know you're looking out for me."

"Of course! I cannot be at my peak if my eternal rival is not at his, can I?" Kakashi snorted at the familiar ribbing that came with their friendship. "So, where is it you've been resting your head this weekend? I was here last night and the night before, and you were not. Would I be right to assume your recent lodgings have been with the wholesome sensei?"

Now it had been established there was no need to worry, Kakashi could hear the teasing tone in his friend's voice and he had to fight to keep down the blush that was threatening to bloom. "You would."

A grin, all gleaming white teeth, stretched across Gai's face. "And would I also be correct to assume this is going to be a more permanent agreement?" The question was asked with a nod to the boxes piling up in the hallway.

"You would." Kakashi had been sure Gai's grin couldn't stretch any further, but it did indeed, all of the other man's teeth on show and his large tan hand coming to slap at his shoulder, a truly pleased chuckle making those eyebrows bob like they did when he was excited.

"My heart soars for you, my friend, but I am disappointed to lose to you once again." Kakashi tilted his head in question. "My eternal rival, you have surpassed me in the noble quest for love!"

The silver-haired man groaned into his hand in feigned embarrassment, actually just hiding the blush that was definitely on his cheeks and the small smile he couldn't suppress as Gai continued with his declarations of youthful love. He was more than grateful when the sound of Iruka returning mellowed the other man's spirited proclamations, conversation returning to general topics, the pizza quickly polished off.

An hour passed by before Gai decided to take his leave. "Those clouds are surely to bring rain soon. If I'm unable to run home before the first rainfall I'll have to do fifty laps from here to my house on my hands."

Iruka, unused to Gai's ridiculously unnecessary self-inflicted challenges pulled a face so incredulous Kakashi was literally incapable of holding back his laughter.

"Walk me to the lobby?" Kakashi nodded, his laughter simmering as Iruka was enveloped in an enthusiastic hug goodbye. They were in the lift before Gai spoke up again. "It is a beautiful thing to hear you laugh Kakashi. It was already a rarity but I feared it would be lost for good."

"So did I." And indeed he did. It wasn't long ago that despair had such a tight grip on him, he was sure the ability to even smile would forever be unattainable.

"He's good for you. Hang on to him."

"I intend to."

The elevator doors opened and Gai's signature grin was back in place, his hand patting at Kakashi's shoulder as he so loved to do. "Don't be a stranger Kakashi! Come by the dojo. I'm hungry for a true challenge and no one else but my true rival will do."

Kakashi waved his friend off with a promise to visit the dojo in the next week. It was the first time since he'd been in the shower, a regrettably solo shower, that he'd been left alone with his thoughts. He'd expected a barrage of memories to hit him as soon as the distraction of Iruka had been taken away, but to his utmost relief they did not. His father was there, hanging in the back of his mind like a grim shadow, but the light Iruka had been shining on him the entire day was much brighter. He really did intend to hang on to him – for as long as humanly possible.

Iruka had already cleared away the pizza boxes and started to pack up the last of the kitchen essentials Kakashi wanted to keep. Just like that they returned to their packing, Iruka's amusement at Gai's eccentricities and Kakashi's stories from their younger days filling the time.

**…**

The sun had long since set when Iruka taped up the last box, and they didn't waste much time transferring them to their cars, especially as the sky had just started spitting, the rolling grey clouds promising much more to come. They couldn't get all the boxes, the least important staying behind for Kakashi to transport at his leisure.

Back in Iruka's – no, their – neighbourhood, the clouds had long since taken over the sky, unrelenting in a downpour they should have been expecting, but were still surprised to see. They dashed into the house, the tiny gap between the sidewalk and Iruka's front door, enough to give them sodden shoulders and dripping hair.

Taking off their coats in the little entryway, Iruka suddenly stopped, shucking his coat back on with a grim look. "We should probably take the boxes out of my car."

Kakashi's distaste for the idea was clearly written on his face, his jacket already off and his shoes soon to follow. "No way, let's just wait till the rain stops."

"It doesn't look to be stopping anytime soon and I won't have time to do it before school tomorrow. I can't drive with them in the car, I could barely see through the back window. It wasn't so much of a problem now, but it'll be dangerous to drive like that during rush hour tomorrow."

They both knew he was right and Kakashi heaved a long-suffering sigh as he re-zipped his jacket closed. Thus began a mad dash between Iruka's car and the living room, boxes being picked up, rushed through the rain, and placed in piles in the corner of the room.

Iruka put the last box down, a deep exhale escaping as he straightened up, pushing the wet strands of hair from his face. He looked over at Kakashi and the sight he saw made a smile bloom on his lips, growing into a grin and expanding into melodious laughter.

His silver hair, usually arced in gravity defiance, was laying flat across his face, a fringe of dark grey splayed across his forehead, the slickened tips mingling with his lashes. His lips had gone almost blue, so pale from the cold and he was sure they were trembling.

If he were to analyse it, Iruka would find his laughter was more from relief than comedy. The entire day, even though he continued on as he would on any other, filling it with conversation, he'd been analysing Kakashi, worried about his well-being. It was easy to see that he wasn't himself today, every word and snicker seemingly taking much more effort than usual to produce. But in this moment, looking again like a petulant child, his blue lips pouting at being laughed at, Kakashi looked as though his biggest worry in life was the rain outside, as though the greatest injustice he'd ever known was what the weather had done to his hair, and Iruka couldn't help but laugh.

With a speed that surely had no place in Kakashi's life now as a civilian, the soldier had closed the foot of distance between them, his hands cupping Iruka's jaw so both his thumbs were placed over the other man's lips, laughter ceasing completely. Kakashi had felt rather than heard the gasp of Iruka's shock and it would have been his turn to laugh at the tanned man's expression; the wide deer-in-headlights look. He would have laughed, the smirk was already on his lips just waiting to escalate, but there wasn't much funny about the speed at which a current of desire seemed to pass from the point where his fingers touched Iruka's lips, down through his arms and the rest of his body.

Neither would know who made the first lunge – that's what it had been, a lunge, a leap across the distance between, their lips colliding with none of the grace or gentility of their previous couplings. Their hands were cold and they clutched onto wet clothes and wetter hair as the kiss skipped past the shy stages, jumping feet first into the deep end, already sloppy, already bruising and biting.

Iruka was the first to break out of the daze when he found himself sat on the third step, his sodden locks sticking to the carpet of the fifth. Kakashi's cool fingers were running on his skin, his body rocking into his as he pressed him into the staircase, the teacher unable to keep in a groan when the side of his neck was relentlessly sucked. He could feel himself falling back into that passion, but the sharp right-angles of the stairs below him kept him grounded.

He relished in the haze behind Kakashi's eyes, lust and confusion swirling in them as the older man tried to figure out why tan arms had pushed him back. It was thrilling to see a man of such strength and composure physically displaying so much need for him, but Iruka was in need too, only smirking at Kakashi's confused face for a moment, before he ran up the stairs, his shirt quickly thrown down to the bottom of the stairs, rousing Kakashi from his stupor.

He'd barely gotten through his bedroom door, when strong arms gripped his hips, pulling his back against a hard chest and his behind against a harder erection. Tan fingers faltered in the task of unbuttoning his jeans, a task he'd surely been capable of from the age of four, but with Kakashi's lips back on the spot already reddened from his previous attention, all brain function ceased to exist for a moment. He didn't think about how he'd explain the mark tomorrow, only relishing in the fact he was being marked there, and surely at his hips as well, where the fingers holding him were doing so with such need and desperation, they were already grunting and gasping like they'd got the main activity.

The main activity. That's what Iruka was yearning for and, if the heavy humping was any indication, so was Kakashi. With great effort on his part, the teacher pulled the arms from his hips. Well, he attempted to, thwarted in doing so when he was held tighter.

"K-Kashi, I-I need...n-no more foreplay." He may have been embarrassed by the neediness, the way he was so close to pleading, but he really did need and so did Kakashi. The air around them was heavy with nothing but need and, at this point, it would surely take a natural disaster to douse the blaze of their desire.

Iruka was out of his remaining pieces of clothing in a blink, his stomach flopping on the bed as his arm reached into the bedside table for the lube. He was about to turn over and demand they get to it when the feeling of bare skin on his bare skin had him exhaling a shaky breath. The feel of Kakashi's member, the head already slick with precum, sliding in the cleft of his cheeks shredded the last neuron in his brain, those cheeks pushing back with a demand to start now, lubrication be damned.

Kakashi still seemed to have an iota of brain function, enough to lean back a second as he coated three fingers, wasting no time before he was sliding two of them in against the resistance of Iruka's inner muscles. Nips and licks and bites were being peppered all along his shoulders as Kakashi continued to stretch him, his fingers steady and efficient despite the rest of his body almost trembling with desire. Not almost, Kakashi realised. He really was trembling, but how could he not. Iruka's face was buried in his pillows but his moans at this point were too loud and long to be muffled effectively. He had a front-row view of his three fingers disappearing into Iruka's ass which was undulating to meet his thrusts. The sight, the sounds and the rocking motion he was unknowingly applying to the back of Iruka's thigh had him mesmerised, only breaking out of it at the frustrated growl of his name.

Iruka's forehead, forearms and knees were pressed firmly into the sheets, his back arched in shaky anticipation, spread so obscenely Kakashi had to close his eyes, his hand dragging slowly down his face as he tried to calm the orgasm that was too eager to rise.

As Kakashi slid into Iruka, slow and steady as the channel accommodate his girth, both men had the same thought; this isn't what they needed, not today. Their last escapade had needed the slow pace it had, but this one needed a completely different one. Thankfully, with their bodies as connected as they were, as connected as their emotions were as well, they were glad to quickly find what they needed was also what the other sought, a bruising pace being set as soon as Iruka's body was relaxed enough for it.

It was a heady concoction; the smell of sex and sweat that permeated the room, the sounds of varying pitches from deep groans to shrill moans accompanied by the repetitive slap of skin on skin. It was absolutely intoxicating and Kakashi was drunk on it. But the garnish was missing; the lime to his gin and tonic, the mint in his mojito, the salt with his tequila shots.

Pulling out, to Iruka's very audible distaste, Kakashi turned the man on his back before diving back in, his eyes trained on the lustfully glazed hazel orbs that had his breath hitching and stalling for a moment. The new position must have been relentless in its assault of Iruka's prostate because a wave of a few more powerful thrusts was his undoing, the sight of his face flushed and his eyes rolling all the way back being Kakashi's undoing.

Iruka released the ankles he'd crossed behind a pale waist, his hands relaxing from a tight grip to a light hold on pale shoulders. Kakashi rested his cheek on a tan chest as he pulled out for the last time that night, but he didn't go far, his joints feeling too much like jelly to attempt any further movement.


	26. Chapter 26

They were just reaching the pinnacle of their argument, Obito and he, when Kakashi heard the familiar timbre of Iruka's sleepy voice rousing him. He opened his eyes, a frown set heavily between his brows as he tried to find his equilibrium, struggling to differentiate between the world of his subconscious and the reality he was being shaken back into.

"Kakashi?"

"Mm?"

"Sorry, I don't know if you wanted waking up but I was about to leave for school and decided maybe I should just wake you anyway. We didn't really discuss it or anything before, but I got a little paranoid about just leaving you but if you want I can not wake you from now. I do need you to feed Pa-"

Kakashi was not entirely listening, working on waking his other senses instead. He could feel the warmth of the teacher's skin where he was still holding on to his bare shoulder and could smell the rich coffee on Iruka's breath. His lips where moving at a pace too fast at this time of the day to not have been influenced by the caffeine, but most of Kakashi's attention was pulled to the purple hickey blooming above the rim of his collar, igniting memories the soldier was more than happy to indulge in. Taking hold of his tie, which he noticed was a print of Salvador Dali's melting clocks, he tugged the teacher towards him to share a kiss that should have been much more reserved for someone who had just woken up and someone who was heading out to work.

"Have a good day 'Ruka."

"Mmhm...y-you too."

He was slightly smug as he watched the teacher back out of the bedroom with a stumble and reddened cheeks, but as he heard the creak of the stairs and the closing of the front door, his mood retreated back to that familiar dark place. Iruka had woken him just before Obito had said it, but it made little difference when the dialogue was chiseled so deeply into his memory. Iruka didn't seem to think it, seemed to think the complete opposite in fact, but Kakashi knew better and Obito knew too. All he was was scum. Well, worse than scum was exactly how Obito had described him.

Kakashi groaned at the self-loathing tone of his conscience, the voice of which sounded scarily like his ex-comrade. Another figure of his internal psyche, sounding much more like Iruka, was telling him to not be so hard on himself, telling him his mistakes were just that and blame couldn't be placed on something that was the unfortunate consequence of fate. But Obito was always loud and persuasive when he wanted to be.

Getting up with a heavy groan, Kakashi headed for the shower hoping the heat and steam would melt his thoughts and wash them down the drain with the sweat of the previous day. It didn't work like that though. It never did, but he knew what would. He knew the only thing that would drown the ghost of Obito, but he discarded that thought before it had time to take purchase. There was no way he'd resort to that; no way he'd jeopardise what he had with Iruka again.

If he'd still had any doubts about how much he needed the teacher, the previous day had given him all the evidence he could ask for. With the exception of the years he'd been rendered incapacitated by alcohol, there had been no other time he had handled his father's suicide anniversary as well as he did yesterday – not by a long shot. He hadn't shed a single tear since the ones that had fallen on his pillow in the morning, and that had to be a miracle. Even on the days Obito would help him get hammered, there'd be a couple teary interludes to his drunkenness.

He fully intended to keep his word to Gai that he wouldn't let Iruka go, and drinking wouldn't just be letting Iruka go, it'd be throwing him away. He had to do something though, had to get moving somehow. He couldn't stay like this, his head hanging so low his chin was pressed to his chest, his ears ringing with more than the sound of the burning water beating at his skin.

Kakashi had realised yesterday that keeping himself busy had occupied his mind with too many things to allow his father space to take over. He'd thought to himself, this is what I'm going to do tomorrow, keep myself busy, but it was proving easier said than done. His limbs were unresponsive and he lost track of the time he was under the shower's spray, unaware of the temperature that was steadily careening down to freezing.

A few shrill barks startled Kakashi, sounding so close he whipped his head round, searching for the culprit past the misty glass of the shower cubicle. The barks sounded again and he was able to pinpoint them to the direction of the open window above the garden, rousing the memory of being told to feed Pakkun. With a heavy sigh, he closed off the water and went to change. He was happy for the distraction though, happy to have something to do, something else to think about, be it momentarily.

He realised he didn't actually have any clothes, pilfering Iruka's robe once again to go outside. Pakkun didn't look particularly pleased, huffing what would surely have been 'about time' if the dog could speak. Only then did Kakashi notice that over an hour had passed since Iruka had left. Returning to the living room the sight of all the boxes filled him little excitement, but he wasn't going back to the brooding state he'd been in before, not if he could help it.

Looking at the spread before him, he decided to carry out the unpacking as he did all the tasks he'd been faced with in the past; like it was a mission and, like all the ones before it, he carried it out with military precision. He opened all seventeen boxes and catalogued what was inside and where it needed to go, sectioning each box to which room it needed to be in, starting with the kitchen. He was ten steps ahead in everything, already planning how he would partition the wardrobe and where his clothes would go, down to the very last sock, even while he was still stacking his plates below Iruka's. He didn't stop, didn't give his mind time to stray beyond his task.

It was strange how he'd missed the sense of direction, the purpose, the feel of his mental gears whirring overtime to maximise efficiency and ensure the best results. It may have been a menial task, but a mission was a mission and he had yet to fail one, not on paper anyway. His hands stuttered on one of the spare hangers he was taking from Iruka's closet at the thought of his only failing in the field, a failing that was listed as a success because the objective had been completed. Kanabi bridge was destroyed taking with it the only chink in the Fire Country's armour. Konoha's borders and Konoha's people were safe. As the captain of the squadron on that mission, that meant he had done his job well, he had been successful, right?

He could repeat it to himself over and over again, but it never made it hurt any less. God knows he had kept it as a mantra in the months following Obito and Rin's death, trying and trying to convince himself that he had done what needed to be done, trying to agree with the higher-ups of the Konoha Army when they had praised him on another job well done – but he knew the truth. It gnawed away at his insides and he knew no matter how it was perceived strategically, it had been his biggest failing to date, an unforgivable mistake that would haunt him forever and, in those moments, he understood completely, sympathised wholeheartedly, with the decision his father had made.

Kakashi groaned loudly, rubbing his palm across his forehead in frustration, as though through sheer will he could wipe away the thoughts that had managed to sneak their way on to the main stage. He had to keep moving, had to keep going.

His mental check-list was getting smaller and smaller, the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom boxes all unpacked, and he knew his mission would be complete long before Iruka got home. Before the thought of sitting and waiting for the teacher even fully formed in Kakashi's mind, he already batted it away. He had to keep going, had to get a new mission. Remembering there were still some boxes left at his apartment, he was in his car minutes later. It was mainly just his Icha Icha collection and other books left, but he'd have to take apart his bookcase and put it back together at Iruka's and he calculated Iruka would be home before he finished up with it.

**…**

Iruka tried not to look too anxious as he parked up outside his home. The entire school day had been much too hectic; courtesy of two absent teachers he had to take on more classes than usual, so there had been little time for his thoughts to wander past the unruly children in his care. Only on his ride home was there time to worry. He was worried about how Kakashi had been the entire day, worried about whether he had spent all day thinking about his father or his last mission, worried about whether he'd thought about drinking. By the time his key was turning in the lock his bottom lip was firmly in the grip of his teeth, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.

It was such a relief seeing Kakashi cross-legged in the corner of his living room, some instruction manual or other in his hands and planks of chestnut-coloured wood at his feet, that Iruka had to laugh.

"Hey don't laugh, this is harder than it looks."

The brunette walked towards Kakashi, crouching behind him and throwing tan arms around his shoulders under the pretense of looking at the diagrams but really just wanting to be close to the other man.

"Mm, yeah. Real rocket science." Iruka smiled at the curved pink lips he could see in the corner of his eye, laughing as he felt a soft elbow poke at his side. "I'll just go change and then I'll come down and help."

"No." The curt tone made the teacher stop, his arms retreating as he moved to sit in Kakashi's line of sight. "Now you're here I'll leave this till tomorrow. It'll give me something to do."

"Fair enough. If you promise not to burn anything I'll let you help me cook." Kakashi snorted and nodded his accent, probably placated by the light tone Iruka had taken. He didn't see the frown on Iruka's brow as he stood, or the heavy glance leveled at his back when Iruka was in the doorway.

He'd known to an extent that Kakashi's days must have been relatively empty. He had lost his career, he had no hobbies that Iruka knew of and he didn't see any other people besides himself and Gai on occasion. If Iruka thought about it, it wasn't too much of a surprise that alcohol would become the soldiers only outlet; staying at home with nothing to do it's only natural for one's thoughts to revert back to whatever worries them, for Kakashi that being his last mission – and alcohol erased that.

During the weekends he kept Kakashi busy unconsciously and for Kakashi's father's anniversary it just hadn't seemed healthy for him to wallow in the memories. Iruka felt so stupid for not realising the same thing applied to the weekdays. He felt inadequate, like he had failed Kakashi in some way. He was supposed to be helping and yet for the majority of the week he essentially abandoned Kakashi to his own devices. As he returned to the living room, pulling Kakashi into the kitchen and giving him onions to cut, he vowed to be there seven days a week from now, being that distraction or at least providing one so his lover's thoughts would never have to darken with unwanted memories again.

**…**

Kakashi was extremely proud with how the day before had gone. Obviously his thoughts weren't a hundred percent Obito-free. The Kanabi Bridge mission, the Konoha Army and his fallen comrades flitted through his mind at any given lull in activity but he tried to make sure he was never inactive for long enough to be surrounded completely by his memories.

He would never admit it, but he felt a little sliver of fear that morning as Iruka rose from the bed after waking him up and sharing a tie-pulled kiss he could see being a daily tradition. The unpacking was finished. There was nothing much left at his old apartment and he'd unpacked so thoroughly there was nothing to do on this end either. He still had his bookcase to erect and fill, which he was immensely grateful for, but at most it would take two hours. He guessed he could walk Pakkun at some point but, to be honest, he feared the task would leave too much room for his mind to wander.

After feeding his dog and himself, he proceeded to work on the bookshelf, wondering how the hell the people who delivered it had set it up in less than half an hour. The buzz of his phone made him flinch out of his concentration but he didn't mind too much upon seeing Iruka's name flash on the screen, the more distractions to his day the better.

"Hello?"

"Hi Kakashi, are you home?"

"Yeah."

"What are you doing?"

He raised an eyebrow, wondering where Iruka was steering the conversation. "Just started on the bookcase, what's up?"

"You doing anything later?"

While he was pleased for the interruption, the random inquisition was getting strange. He wondered what all the questions were about and the only thing he could think of was that Iruka was checking to make sure he wasn't drinking. Kakashi couldn't help but feel slightly patronised and, try as he might, he couldn't keep in the slightly offended tone when he answered. "No, Iruka, I'm not doing anything else later.”

"Oh good!" Kakashi's lips downturned. "I just realised I forgot my lunch at home! I've no idea what had me so scatter-brained, I never forget lunch when I've made it. If it's not too much trouble could you bring it to the school. Only if you aren't busy though."

"Uh yeah, of course. I'll be there at 12." Kakashi sighed as he hung up the phone after their goodbyes. Why he would think Iruka would do anything to purposefully patronise him is beyond him. After his last failing, he didn't deserve Iruka's trust when it came to being left alone and yet he still had it. Turning back to the instruction manual, he decided not to dwell on it, just happy he would have something else to do today.

**…**

He knew it would only be an hour out of Kakashi's day, two if you counted the travel to and from the school, but it was the best Iruka could think of on short notice. He'd already known the bookcase would need finishing so had figured the soldier would be sufficiently occupied for at least half the day. This lunch would only be a slice of Kakashi's day but, if Iruka had his way, it's a slice that would be occupied everyday from now on.

He dismissed his class and went around collecting any sheets that had been left on desks and all the books that had been stacked at the end of each row. He was wiping the board of the notes from the previous class when there was a knock on his door.

"Come in."

"Maa sensei, do all your students get such a nice view."

Iruka turned his head to see Kakashi leaning against the doorframe, his eye firmly fixed on his behind, which he imagined you got a full view of as stretched to wipe the top corners of the board. The heat growing in his cheeks was obviously a blush, but he tried to ignore it as he turned to smile at the older man.

His big lunch, clearly too much for one person although Kakashi didn't question it, was placed on the desk between them, a chair on either side for them to sit. Iruka wondered if the soldier had seen through his whole 'forgotten lunch' ruse because he sat down, partitioning the lunch into two and even bringing out a flask of green tea that was all his own doing.

"I know you only wanted me to bring you your massive lunch, I hope you don't mind me joining you."

The smirk and the emphasis on the 'massive' said it all but Iruka definitely did not mind.

"No, not at all. I should forget my massive lunch everyday."

**…**

He'd shared a lovely hour with Iruka at lunch, the bookcase was finally fully erect, his alphabetically stacked Icha Icha covers proudly on show in their new home, but there were still at least two hours till Iruka would be back.

Getting the leash they had bought from the Inuzuka's, Kakashi decided to bite the bullet and take Pakkun for a walk. The dog had been alone in the garden most of the day and there was always the possibility that the sights of his new neighbourhood would give Kakashi enough distraction from his thoughts.

He had no particularly direction in mind, almost letting Pakkun lead the way through the suburbs, but the sights around him started to become familiar and before too long he realised they were going the way of the park Iruka had shown him at the weekend. With a destination in mind, he was more focused on his task, trying to remember the exact route they had taken. Fifteen minutes and only two wrong turns on the way, they found themselves at the mouth of the park, the old lady's sandwich shop giving him a mission for another day. Once they were there though, there wasn't much left to do but wander the grounds. It was too quiet, too peaceful for his mind to latch on to anything of interest, it not being long for his mind to give him a topic it deemed far more interesting than the landscape.

Closing his eyes and rubbing at his temple with his fingertips and a sigh, he turned to find the exit of the park, convinced anywhere would be better for him to find a distraction. As he meandered back towards the path however, he caught sight of a man and woman dressed in what was clearly jogging gear, the only incongruous part of their outfits being a dog leashed to each of their left hands. They were running at a fast pace Kakashi would have easily surpassed back in the day, their dogs keeping up surprisingly well as they disappeared into the foliage.

He looked down at Pakkun and, before he could think himself out of it, his slow pace turned into a brisk jog, nothing like the running pair with their dogs and nothing like he was capable, after all his own dog didn't seem like a very athletic breed. Fifteen minutes in however, Pakkun was still going steady, his tongue flapping out of his mouth but otherwise seeming unaffected, while Kakashi's own lungs were starting to protest. He knew he was nowhere near as fit as he used to be, but this was ridiculous. His pace could still only be classed as a jog and yet he was finding himself stood by the nearest tree, one hand held out to it for support and the other above his erratic heartbeat.

Kakashi looked down at Pakkun who, floppy tongue aside, looked his usual lazy self. This just would not do! He was Konoha's best dammit. His body was a machine, built to withstand anything that was thrown at him, yet here was struggling to keep up with a pug, of all dog breeds! He didn't even have to deliberate before deciding what his next mission would be. He was going to train himself back to perfection.

**…**

"So what have you been up to today?" Iruka asked as he bit into a salmon and watercress sandwich from the old lady's shop. He was pleasantly surprised the first time Kakashi had brought this to him almost three months ago, when they'd first started these lunch dates at the school, and could count on at least one a week usually.

"I finally finished Pakkun's doghouse. It still needs painting but the last screw went in today." Iruka beamed at that. Kakashi had been working on the project for two and a half weeks, doing everything from scratch, from drawing up the sketch to cutting the planks he bought from the hardware store. All it had taken was a little drizzle while Kakashi was at the school having lunch with him to persuade the soldier that Pakkun needed some sort of shelter for when neither of them were home.

Three months had passed in the same way and Iruka couldn't have been happier. Kakashi found himself constantly on the go, always doing something or other to pass the time. Initially Iruka had been that little push, hinting to this and that around the house that needed doing, but eventually the soldier got into the stride of it, not having to even think about what he could do, already ready with another project while the other was being finished off.

It's what Iruka had always hoped for but never thought they could achieve so easily. They could have been living together for years the way their routine was so perfectly mapped throughout the week. Yes, Kakashi was always working on something new, but everything else in their lives was fixed and working like a well-maintained clock, the gears shifting and ticking in time with each other. Iruka would wake Kakashi in the morning, a quick peck or steamy kiss to accompany it and go along for his school day, while Kakashi would remain, feed Pakkun, go for a morning run then work on his latest project. They would meet up for lunch everyday at midday, sharing a meal and mindless chatter. Kakashi would carry on his project for a while, then go for his afternoon run or visit Gai at his dojo, returning just in time to welcome Iruka back from work. They'd cook dinner together, laze around the garden if the weather permitted it or huddle on the sofa, Pakkun at their feet, if it did not.

It was perfect. It was everything it should have been.

So why did Iruka still feel on edge? He knew his own instincts and he knew they could be trusted, but for once, he was doubting them because everything was going well. Kakashi was healthy, the bright sheen his silver hair had in his youth had returned and his skin was the beautiful porcelain it always should have been. His smirks seemed to come so easily now, a playfulness that Iruka savoured appearing frequently in conversation. The days were perfect, more than he could ever ask for.

The nights on the other hand were far from perfect.

He'd noticed that Kakashi's nightmares had been steadily increasing – in frequency and intensity. The last month every single night of the week had been tainted by them. When they'd first moved in together it had to have only been three, sometimes four times a week. It was worrying then too, but seven times a week was excessive. While every other aspect of his life seemed to be improving exponentially, his subconscious carried on careening downhill, now faster and steeper than it had been before.

Iruka guessed he'd become attuned to Kakashi, even while asleep, and it only to took a strange whimper or aggressive toss for the teacher to be awake, ready to soothe away the demons. Sometimes he wasn't even woken up, sometimes he would just wake around 3am of his own accord if Kakashi hadn't woken him already, only to see his partner's shaking fists clenching the sheets and tears dampening his pillow in his sleep. On those nights he would scoot as close as possible, unfurl the clenched fists from the sheets and pull Kakashi into an embrace, soothing over the skin at his back. The soldier would wake with shaky, laboured breathing, sniffling every once in a while as he held on to Iruka like a life raft, only loosening his grip as he drifted back into slumber.

Kakashi never mentioned it so neither did Iruka, and it was hard to keep focused on a bad dream the night before when in the day Kakashi would be perfect. It was hard to focus on the only negative when there were so many positives to his and Kakashi's relationship now. It was hard to focus on the grimace Kakashi would wear when stuck in a nightmare when Kakashi's smile right now was so much more mesmerising, when his laughter, a deep melodious thing that made his insides tingle, was taking all of his focus.

The nights left a lot to be desired, but the days were just down-right perfection, and sixteen out of twenty-fours was a ratio Iruka happily accepted for the time-being.

**…**

Kakashi ground to a halt at the incessant beeping he could hear. The landscape around him started to sharpen, each tree individual once again, pulled apart from the green ectoplasmic clump they appeared to be when he was running at top speed. He unclipped his pedometer, checking the time as he always did but, like always, the alarm wasn't lying and two hours really had flown past him. It really had been a useful gift but he supposed Iruka had just become fed up of Kakashi arriving home after sun down, only having realised how much time had passed as he registered the darkness around him. On the fifth time Kakashi had let time slip away while in the void he created while he ran, Iruka had presented him with the pedometer, pointing out the alarm feature on the device. If he'd still been uncertain that a hundred and twenty minutes could pass by so quickly, the burn of his legs and lungs were evidence enough. He stretched his muscles, sipping from his water bottle, before making the leisurely jog back home as a cool down.

He'd pushed it a bit too far again. Spots were still dancing behind his eyes and his head was spinning slightly even as he slowed to a walk. He told himself he'd take it easy next time, but he knew he wouldn't. He was addicted to the rush, the feel of the day's gentle breeze hitting with gale force as he barged through it. He was addicted to the dizzying effects of his heart pounding too fast, his veins working double time and his blood flowing double speed. He was addicted to the scenery becoming nothing but stationary strips of colour as he zoomed past them. He was addicted to it all because it felt good, to have his body once again at its peak felt good, to have his heart racing of his own volition, not some messed up concoction of his conscience felt good, to have adrenaline pumping through his system again felt good.

Despite all that though, Kakashi didn't run for those reasons, he had other things in his life that could provide him with those same feelings. Running was a rush, of course it was, but there was no greater rush than sparring with a worthy opponent. His bi-weekly spars with Gai had been slowly growing with intensity and now they weren't far off the level they'd had when they'd both been in the Army. It made him feel quite embarrassed knowing how easy Gai had been going on him after he returned to Konoha. Now though, they went all out, pushing each other to the very edge. His muscles would pull and ache much more than they did from his running, his adrenaline skyrocketing as the two of them became nothing but a blur of arms and legs. His heart would pound then too and he'd be dizzy with it by the end, but there was somewhere else he preferred to get those side effects. Nothing made him dizzier, made his heart pound as pleasantly or his breath struggle to enter his lungs as much as his nights with Iruka. Well, nights if it was a weekday, any time of day at the weekends. Spots would still dance behind his eyes minutes after completion and he'd struggle for his composure, struggle to stand on his shaky legs or keep his body from trembling if they were laying down.

No, he certainly didn't need to run. If it was about the rush, if it was about the adrenaline, if it was about the racing of his heart or the strain to his muscles, Kakashi would frankly have saved himself the trouble because he could find all those in more companionable and more pleasurable ways.

But Kakashi still ran, like clockwork he would run in the morning and the afternoon, and he did so because it was the only thing left that let him forget. When he ran, so fast and so far and for so long that his lungs protested, that his head became dizzy with the moving images, that he was so exhausted he was on the brink of collapse, he would forget. There would be nothing left in his mind, no memories, no horrors, no ghosts. There'd be no mission, no Army, no childhood. Iruka wouldn't exist, nor Gai, but neither would Obito or his father. There'd be nothing but the conscious effort to exhale and inhale. There'd be no room for his mind to think of anything, his thoughts abandoned as the blood rushed to his muscles to keep him moving and rushed to his lungs to keep him breathing instead.

Even as he walked further away from the park, he'd be left with a clean slate, his mind a blank canvas not yet vandalised by the dirty memory of his past. As he'd get closer to home and his breaths would start to even out, his thoughts would kick back into gear and he'd wonder whether Iruka would be home, what they'd be making for dinner, whether it'd be warm enough afterwards to lie on the hammock, that blank canvas filling with beautiful watercolour creations that he'd hang proudly in his mind's eye until bed. Then, and only then, would the ghastly charcoal of his past appear on the canvas, harsh lines and abrasions that distorted the image below them until he could once again run the slate clean come morning.

Kakashi had pretty much regained control over his lungs by the time he'd reached the red door and, as usual after a run, he was in a good mood, even more so after seeing Iruka's car parked out front. He unlocked the door, entering and kicking off his trainers as he shouted through the living door to the kitchen where he could hear the water running.

"Babe, I'm home. I'm just gonna take a quick shower then come help you with dinner...unless you want to join me of course!"

He only ever seriously called Iruka that in his post-run euphoria and jokingly if he wanted to induce a quick blush in the man. He chuckled as he jogged up to the shower, imagining the rosy red that would adorn the teacher cheeks at the pet name and the half-serious suggestion.

**…**

Iruka sputtered silently as he turned his pink cheeks to the kettle, head cast down as he hoped uselessly that, having lived with Kakashi for a while his ears were attuned to the other man, hearing him perfectly even though the man had actually spoken quietly. The snort from behind him told a different story though, his face heating up even further.

"Is that what you two brats get up to in your spare time? No wonder you've had no time to visit your dear old Aunt recently."

Iruka groaned, mentally strangling Kakashi for dropping the bomb he wanted to carefully administer over tea and light conversation. The kettle clicked off and Iruka poured the water into the mugs for the special Darjeeling he kept as a treat. Grabbing both handles, he scrunched his eyes for a moment, before taking a deep breath and walking back to his Aunt Tsunade, placing the tea before her and sitting in the seat opposite.

He cradled his hot mug, apprehensive and biting his lip as he stared at the swirling leaves he should have been enjoying. It was like he was eight all over again, struggling to look her in the eye when he knew he was in the wrong and it was funny really, how easily she could still command authority over him.

When he'd left the school at four, eager as usual to get back to Kakashi, he'd been more than a little startled to see his Aunt Tsunade leaning against the hood of his car. He had sputtered and stuttered but Tsunade had just insisted she come over for dinner seeing as Iruka hadn't so much as breathed her way in months, hopped into her own car and followed on behind his. And now here they were, Iruka wishing fervently he was elsewhere, preferably the aforementioned shower, and Tsunade was elsewhere too, preferably the other side of the city.

"So, what new in your life Iruka?" The sentence was dripping with sarcasm and he couldn't help but curl a little further into his tea.

It wasn't that he hadn't wanted to tell her that Kakashi had moved in. Honestly, the whole situation had been all-consuming. He'd been thinking about nothing but Kakashi and himself at the time and hadn't even spared a thought to his aunt until they had started falling into a comfortable routine. By then it had just seemed rude to pop up out of nowhere and announce their cohabitation. He'd have still insisted on their living together even if Tsunade had disapproved but, facing that possible disapproval now, Iruka was anxious. Tsunade was his only family left, of course he wanted her approval. She'd made it pretty obvious at the beginning that their relationship wasn't the best idea but still, he hoped she would give her blessing.

"Umm, well...the school is doing well, the principal's thinking about an expansion seeing as there's so many students wanting to join and the kids are doing great. Naruto and Sasuke, you remember them right, Naruto's the one who called you grandma that time you came to ask me for my room while the library went through renovations, they're doing really well, sorting out their issues with the karate lessons they're getting from Kakashi who's movedinwithme."

"Hm, isn't that rather soon?"

"Well, not really, the school had been around for a while so expansion now wouldn't-"

"Iruka!"

He sighed, finally raising his eyes to his aunt's. The only thing he'd been ashamed of was keeping her out of the loop and not telling her they'd moved in together sooner. He was not ashamed or even slightly apologetic that they had moved in together, or about how soon it had happened, and he told her so, his gaze steadily meeting hers.

"No, it's not. For other people maybe, but it wasn't too soon for us."

She sighed, taking a sip of her tea before replying. "And? How's it going?"

Iruka felt his lip twitch upwards as he went through the last three months and he didn't bother restraining the smile. He thought about the dinners they'd cooked together, the nights they'd slept on the sofa having fallen asleep watching a movie. He thought about the picnics they'd had at the park with Pakkun, their Sunday trips to that Parisian café he loved. He thought about the restaurant Kakashi had taken him to last Saturday and the Karate tournament Gai had invited them to the Saturday before that. He thought about the weekend mornings spent lazing in bed sharing lingering kisses and what those lingering kisses usually led to.

He curbed his thoughts before they could meander down that particular tangent. The small smile was still present on his lips and he couldn't help the warming of his cheeks as he finally answered his aunt. "It's going well. Better than well actually, it's been...perfect."

Tsunade hid a smile behind her mug, nodding her approval at the happiness that was clear as day on her nephew’s face. "And Kakashi, how's he been?"

She watched as Iruka smile stretched even further as he poured out a litany of everything Kakashi had been up to. He described the ex-soldier's projects, told her of all the work he'd been doing with Naruto and Sasuke, told her how much he'd been helping out at Gai's dojo. Iruka was so animated, speaking of his lover with such pride at how far he had come that Tsunade couldn't help but smile, a weight of worry she'd carried since Kakashi left AA finally subsiding.

Before she could reply, the pounding of footsteps on the stairs signaled Kakashi arrival, his voice arriving before he did.

"Hey I was waiting for you up there. Did you not feel like a shower or did you just want it on the kitchen ta- uh." Kakashi coughed, clearing his throat as his eye finally met Tsunade, the towel he'd been drying his hair with falling to his bare shoulders as he erupted in a blush. "Umm, I think it goes without saying that was not directed at you ma'am."

"I'd bloody hope not you horny brat!" Tsunade laughed, loud and long, her palm cracking on the tabletop, storing that little nugget for teasing material later on. Iruka could only lay his head on the table, unsure whether he could ever look his aunt in the eye again, but sorely pleased Kakashi had at least been wearing pants when he'd come down this time.

**…**

Despite the permanent blush Iruka was wearing, not helped in the slightest by Tsunade's occasional quips about showers, kitchen tables and horny brats, the evening was rather successful. The older woman sat at the kitchen table nursing her second cup of tea as she watched Iruka and Kakashi move around each other in the kitchen like it was choreographed. Kakashi would chop all the ingredients, sliding them into Iruka's wok at the right intervals without being prompted, handing over whatever spices the younger asked for, all while maintaining conversation with Tsunade.

She didn't think she'd ever heard him speak as much as she had that night and was surprised by the different facets of Kakashi she'd never seen until tonight. He was playful and sarcastic with Iruka, joking around in a way she never would have believed the somber soldier who came to her AA meetings was capable of.

As Kakashi rose to start on the dishes, Tsunade rose to take her leave, ruffling the soldier's hair, to his chagrin, and telling him not to be such a stranger, before telling Iruka to walk her to her car.

"I have to say Iruka, I'm pleasantly surprised. I don't think anyone could have gotten through that thick grey head of his, but somehow you managed to. Although, judging by what I heard, your methods are far from innocent." She laughed aloud again, patting Iruka on the shoulder as he shielded his eyes with his palm out of embarrassment.

"Please please can we not!"

She reigned in her chuckles, a huge grin still plastered on her lips. "I'm just happy for you both and proud of you. It's not easy being the person who has to listen to an alcoholic's troubles. Believe me, I know from both sides of the coin it's a heavy burden to carry, especially with Kakashi, I can't imagine his story is a pleasant one. But I have no doubt that he'll carry on recovering, what with him finally opening up to someone and having all these side projects too. He's lucky to have you."

With a final hug goodbye, Tsunade got in her car, leaving her nephew on the sidewalk, oblivious to look of worry she'd left on his face

**…**

His aunt's words swirled around his head for the rest of the evening, as he dried the dishes and as they sat huddled on the sofa watching something he couldn't care to remember the name of. He wasn't entirely sure what was worrying him the most; that he hadn't even thought to talk about Kakashi's army days since he moved in or that Tsunade had assumed their recent happiness could only be accounted to that. It had always been his intention, but as they started to simmer into a routine and everything had started to go so well, dredging up the past had seemed less and less like a priority and more and more like a burden.

Now though, he was starting to doubt himself. What would his aunt have said if he'd told her that whatever had happened on his last mission was still as much of a mystery as it had always been? What would she have said if she'd seen the other side that wasn't the cohabitational bliss she'd witnessed? What if she knew that most nights Kakashi woke with tears on his pillow from nightmares Iruka had done nothing to prevent? Would she still think Kakashi was lucky to have him?

"Hey, are you okay? I really am sorry about what I said in front of your aunt."

Iruka pulled himself out of his thoughts, realising the credits for whatever they'd been watching were rolling and Kakashi had probably been trying to rouse his attention for a while.

"Yeah I'm fine. Don't worry about it, she'll be thrilled to have such embarrassing leverage over me. I'm just tired is all." He attempted a smile, but it felt forced from his end and the furrow of silver brows told him it looked forced at Kakashi's end too. The older man said nothing though, only nodding before turning off the television and going about the routine of securing all the windows and doors.

As they laid down for the night, Iruka feigned his sleep, waiting and watching as Kakashi's face softened with exhaustion, his breathing beginning to even out. He stayed awake for longer than he could keep track, looking for any signs of when the other man's rest would be interrupted, unable to allow himself sleep what with the guilt that sat heavily at his chest. Maybe he could be preventing Kakashi's nightmares. Tsunade seemed to think he was the only who could get through to the soldier and yet he had made no efforts to do so. Maybe the nightmares could have stopped long ago if only he'd stepped up earlier.

As much as he tried to fight it, his own exhaustion took over, dragging him into a deep sleep that was only interrupted later by the feel of Kakashi's body moving restlessly beside him. He jumped to attention as he did every night, shaking the older man from what seemed to be a rather violent one that night. Kakashi sat upright upon awaking as he did on some nights, staring at nothing in the darkness of their bedroom. Iruka kissed his temple, rubbed soothing circles into his neck and back as practiced words of comfort flowed from his lips. Minutes passed as they did every night until Kakashi was back in their current reality, turning to bury his face into Iruka's chest before going back to sleep as was the norm.

Iruka held onto Kakashi shoulders, tighter than he usually would, as he stared at the black ceiling, trying without success to stop the tears from rolling out the corners of his eyes.

Like the tie-pulled kiss in the morning and their lunch at twelve, like their dinner preparations and the television afterwards, this too had become part of their routine and Iruka felt his heart constrict at the realisation. This wasn't right. It wasn't right for Kakashi to be so plagued by his memories that they tormented his sleep every night. It wasn't right for them to have fallen into such a practised sequence for dealing with the nightmares like they were a normal part of life, as normal as lunch and dinner, as normal as a run round the park.

Kakashi wasn't lucky to have him at all. He'd as good as facilitated his nightmares by accepting them as part of their perfect daily routine, doing nothing significant to stop them, but he'd change that tomorrow.   



	27. Chapter 27

Iruka parked up outside of his house and took a deep breath. He had delayed his arrival, staying behind to catch up on marking and lessons plans he usually would have done at home, so he knew if Kakashi wasn't back from his run he would be soon.

He'd had time to think of some clever tactic and yet he still had nothing. The older man must have noticed at lunch, asking on multiple occasions if he was alright and what was bothering him, but Iruka had waved it off as nothing. He'd didn't want to bring the soldier's nightmares up at the school, even if he had known what to say. Diverting conversation away from him, Iruka had asked Kakashi about the doghouse, only half-hearing the man explain how he'd sanded it down and had gone out to buy paint which he'd start on that afternoon. He himself had given no input, had had no anecdotes of his day to offer Kakashi, hoping his open-ended questions and periodic nodding and humming would distract from the fact he'd gone practically mute compared to how much he usually spoke.

But now he was outside of their home with nowhere to hide and nothing to distract from the topic at hand, yet he still didn't have anything solid in the way of a plan. He didn't want to be sneaky, didn't want to extract a confession from Kakashi that Kakashi didn't want to give, but he was passionate about this. He had absolutely no desire to see Kakashi caught in a night terror again without knowing he'd done everything in his power to prevent it and his only plan was to make sure Kakashi realised this.

He saw Kakashi's running shoes on the rack as soon as he'd unlocked the door, taking a deep breath before he took his own shoes off, undoing the laces and going about the whole affair at half the speed necessary. Dallying around was only heightening his nerves though, so he went straight into the living room, the faint sounds of the television telling him that's where Kakashi was.

The man was sat on the sofa, Pakkun asleep at his feet. His elbows were at his knees, his two index fingers steepled in front of stern lips, looking engrossed in whatever programme was on the tv he was staring at. Iruka knew him well enough to know that he probably didn't even know what he was watching; that was his thinking face and by the looks of it he was deep in thought.

Inching closer, Iruka placed his satchel on the coffee table before sitting beside the stoic soldier. "Hey."

His voice had been low and he had no idea why it had come out sounding so somber, as though his voice box anticipated the conversation going sour. He didn't have to worry about the tone of his voice after that though, as no more words would come. Knowing what he wanted to say didn't mean he had any clue how to start and he kind of wished he'd been writing a script the entire time he'd been in the car. Kakashi wasn't exactly helping, still silently staring ahead, the only acknowledgement of his presence being a stiff nod. Iruka was getting slightly worried they would be stuck in this limbo until one of them got too hungry or too thirsty to remain seated, but Kakashi broke the silence.

"So, are you ready to talk to me about what's been bothering you?"

Iruka blinked at the sudden sound of his partner's voice, blinking again as he registered what had been said, blinking once more at the realisation this was as good a time as any to get to the point. "Actually, that's what I wanted to ask you."

His thinking pose slowly came apart as Kakashi turned to face him, brows furrowed in confusion. "What's been bothering me? You're the one who's been acting strange. You've barely spoken since yesterday, Iruka, you were sat in your car for twenty minutes before you came in. What's wrong?"

He could feel his cheeks heat at Kakashi's last observation, not having realised how much time had passed or having considered how strange camping in his car would seem. He sighed as he turned on the couch to face Kakashi better. "I'm sorry I've been acting weird. I guess it must have been a little disconcerting-"

"You think." Kakashi mumbled over him, still looking confused but no longer as anxious.

"-but I've just been, just been worried a lot...about you."

"What's there to worry about?"

"Kakashi, I...don't you...doesn't it worry you that...that you're nightmares are getting worse, that, that you have them every single night now and we're just, we're just not doing anything about it or even acknowledging that we should be-"

"Wait, wait, what? That's what all this has been about? Where's this coming from all of a sudden?"

Iruka parted his lips to answer, before seeing the diversion tactic for what it was. "That's not exactly the issue here right now, Kakashi. I'm worried about you and I think-"

"We've been absolutely fine up till now, more than fine even. What's changed?"

"Nothing, I've just come to the realisation that none of this is healthy. I think we should-"

"Oh!" Iruka startled at the sudden exclamation, but nothing was remotely joyous about the scoff Kakashi emitted or the sudden annoyance that had so quickly replaced his earlier confusion. "That's what this is about, isn't it? Dear old Aunt Tsunade put you up to this, didn't she? We've had this discussion Iruka, I'm not going back to AA unless I relapse and I won't. I'm fine."

Hazel eyes widen at the quick switch from concern to contempt, before they narrowed, taking offence at the more than disrespectful way Kakashi had addressed his aunt. "She has nothing to do with this, I'm-"

"Sure she doesn't. This being the first reciprocated conversation we've had since she left is a total coincidence." Kakashi scoffed, turning his head away from Iruka, whose face was still a rosy red, roused now by anger more than anything else.

"She doesn't have anything to do with this Kakashi!" His voice box again playing with the volume control, this time well above what was necessary. This was not how he had seen this conversation going. Regulating his temper with a deep breath and a better handle on the dial controlling his volume, he carried on. "She has nothing to with this Kakashi, she had nothing to say but praise, in fact. When I walked her to the car all she could say was how proud she was of us, of you, and how well we were doing and how impressed she is with your recovery."

Kakashi turned back to him with a sigh, the attitude he'd been waving around previously now nowhere to be seen and it dawned on Iruka that it had probably just been defensiveness. "Then what's the problem."

"She doesn't see the nightmares, Kakashi. She thought everything between us was perfect and it is, it really is, for the most part, but she doesn't see the nightmares. I do." Kakashi said nothing, looking at the hands folded in his lap, but Iruka could see that the gravity of the situation was finally hitting the solder. "It can't be healthy, Kakashi. It can't be normal that you're having them so frequently and they affect you so badly. I just...I just realise how...how wrong it is that we've been acting so normal about this. We've just added it to part of our normal routine, like it's normal to have such bad nightmares, like it's normal for me to have to wake you up and calm you down every night. I think we should-"

"Okay, fine." Iruka's eyes widened at the determination in the older man's voice, his chest feeling light for the first time in twenty-four hours. He reached a hand out touch Kakashi's shoulder, just feeling the need to hold the other man close, but before it could land, Kakashi had stood, once again turned away from Iruka, his next sentence dropping that ton of weight plus a little extra back on his chest. "Fine. You don't have to be there any more. You don't have to wake me up anymore, I'll sleep on the coach from now. It was selfish of me to expect you to sit through that every night, so you don't-"

"What? What?!" Iruka stood, rounding to face the older man, his eyes alight with rage at the audacity of Kakashi's suggestion. "What are you even saying? That's not what this is about and you know that. I'm not going anywhere, it's the nightmares I want to go! I've told you before and I'll tell you again Kakashi, if I have to wake up every night to stop your nightmares, then that's what I'll do. If I have to do so for the rest of my life, Kakashi, then that's what I'll do, but-"

"So what the problem?!"

"But I'll be damned if we don't even try to stop them in the first place!" Damn that volume control. The silence that followed was all the more jarring after his little louder-than-necessary outburst. He steadied his breathing, sighing for the nth time that evening, before he continued. "Kakashi the last three months have been good, they've been...great actually. But, for all the good it's done us, it hasn't done anything to soothe whatever's going on up there." He tapped his middle finger to Kakashi's temple, pulling a sigh from the other man but still not achieving any eye contact. He cupped the man's cheek and jaw in his palm but made no move to lift it, only smoothing the skin with his thumb as he whispered. "I just want us to talk about it."

"No." It was so curt, leaving no room for confusion, but it too was whispered. He could have misheard.

"What?"

"No." Just as curt, only louder and there was no way to mishear or mistake that for anything other than the refusal it was.

He moved closer, his other palm attempting to reach Kakashi's other cheek as his voice stuttered a confused, "K-Kashi?"

"No, Iruka." The soldier took a step back, tan hands falling from where they had been resting on him. "I hear what you're saying, I do, but I'm not going to talk about this, with you or anyone."

"Kakashi." Iruka stepped forward, his previously dropped hand rising again, only to have Kakashi take two steps further away leaving his arm to plummet once more. His eyes were wide and watery, his lips trembling with an itch to say more, to pour stronger words of persuasion, but his mind had none. "Just...'Kashi, please?"

Kakashi shook his head, his feet making the distance between them larger as he spoke with a distant, shaky voice that didn't belong on his throat. "Iruka. Iruka, I'm happy. For the first time in a long time, I'm happy and I know...I just, I know if I didn't have you...if, if you weren't with me, I'd be miserable. I can finally laugh again and I don't feel I'm carrying the burden of my teammates' lives around with me 24/7. This is working, everything we're doing now is working and I...I haven't felt the need to...to drink, in a long time. If the price I have to pay for that is a few sleepless nights, then so be it."

Iruka could say nothing, could do nothing in response. He stayed rooted to his spot as Kakashi left the room and headed upstairs, biting his lip so hard he was sure he could taste the coppery evidence of his distress. He was still trembling slightly, his gaze focused on nothing in particular (in the same way, ironically, Kakashi did as he was coming out of a nightmare) when Kakashi came back down the stairs. He stopped in the entryway, his back turned to Iruka as he opened the outside door.

"I'm going for a run. Don't wait up."

Iruka felt numb and lost as he moved to sit back on the sofa. He put his feet up on the upholstery, resting his chin on his knees as his arms circled around himself trying to come to terms with how badly that had gone. They'd never fought before, not as lovers or as friends, but this definitely felt like a fight and it left him feeling empty.

He replayed everything that had happened, wondering what he should have done differently, if it would have even mattered, if this was one of those things he'd just have to learn to deal with and accept. It would be hard to go back to how everything was before though, without the guilt he now felt at doing nothing to prevent Kakashi's nightmares. He didn't want to see Kakashi cry every night, didn't want to see him shaking with a fear he had no idea how to soothe.

He replayed what Kakashi had said before he left and it was so bittersweet. He was happy, so, so happy to hear that Kakashi was happy, to hear that he himself was the cause of that and, if it were only at the cost of 'a few sleepless nights', he'd let it go. He'd enjoy the happiness they'd stumbled upon and do his best to make sure it only grew. But they weren't talking about a few sleepless nights. They were talking about the possibility of every single night of the rest of Kakashi's life being haunted by ghosts he refused to acknowledge. They were talking about the toll waking up in tears, trembling would eventually have on his mental health. They were talking about the big, red, flashing sign his subconscious was waving, screaming that something was wrong, and Iruka wasn't going to ignore it.

**…**

If he hadn't been so physically fit, the poster child for hale and health in the last couple of months, he'd be sure he was on the verge of cardiac arrest. Leaning against the tree wasn't even enough to calm him down, his legs refusing to put up with any more abuse as he slid to the ground, his head titled back against the bark of the tree, the half moon just visible through the leaves above.

He'd not a clue what the time was, what time he'd left or how long he'd been running for but he knew without a doubt this was the furthest he'd ever pushed himself. It had taken a lot more than usual to clear his thoughts but he was glad for it, glad for the ache in his limbs and the burn in his lungs because there was so much serenity now in his head, and he could think clearly for the first time since Iruka had thrown him that curveball.

The initial anger that had risen to the surface at Iruka's prying had petered away, his more reasonable emotions knowing that the teacher was only trying to help, only trying to do what was best for his health. Even knowing that though, he wasn't about to change his answer, if anything now, with a fully functioning brain once again, he'd regained his ability to reason and his no was now determined with solid explanation.

He could only remember half of what he'd mumbled to Iruka before he'd gone for a run, but he could recall the general gist of it and had fleshed out the argument until it made undeniable sense. It may have been more than a few sleepless nights he was losing, much more in fact, but the alternative was so much worse. He had absolutely no desire to test out the hypothesis that talking would lighten his mental load, because the consequences if they were wrong were entirely too great. What if spilling everything shattered whatever barrier kept his nightmares at bay until the night? What if by then nothing would help, not his running or his sparring or Iruka? As much as he missed the dizzying freedom alcohol gave him, he didn't want to go back there. He didn't want to ever fall that far down the gutter and talking about his past would only risk that very thing happening.

That was the logically thought-out explanation he'd give Iruka if he asked again, which he knew he would, that is what he would say and there was really no arguing with the logic there. It was the logical explanation but it wasn't the first that had come to him, it wasn't the reason he had said no in Iruka's living room and it wasn't the reason he was sure, no matter what, he could never reveal what his past contained.

Even if it did stop the nightmares, even if he could have a full nights rest and the lingering shadows of Rin and Obito could finally leave him alone, he'd still be reluctant to tell Iruka. Everything was fine as it was. Everything was perfect. How would that change if Kakashi was to tell his lover that he'd left his friends to die, that he'd turned the other cheek when the closest people in his life were fighting for their lives, only realising his mistake when it was too late? He certainly wouldn't be his lover anymore that's for sure.

He wasn't a monster in Iruka's eyes right now. He wasn't scum, anything below it or anything even close. Kakashi had come to cherish the look of absolute adoration in Iruka's hazel eyes every morning. He'd come to cherish the smiles he got that no else did, the closeness he got to experience that no one else could.

He loved Iruka.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could lose that, he wasn't going to take the risk. Even if Iruka stayed, would he even look at him the same way or would he look at Kakashi and see the mess the soldier saw every time he looked in the mirror? No, no, no. He couldn't risk it.

Starting on his walk back home now that his legs would hold him, he realised how late it must have gotten, not a single light on in any of the houses he passed. Unlocking the door, glad that even though he'd forgotten everything else, he'd remembered to bring his keys, he eased into the house without a sound. He took a peek through the living room door to see Iruka curled up on the sofa, Pakkun guarding diligently at his feet.

His tie was draped across the back of the sofa, but he was still wearing his now-crumpled shirt and trousers. His satchel was still on the table where he'd left it, clasps still set, the channel on the television unchanged even though it was now broadcasting teleshopping. Only then did he see that it was past midnight.

The thought of waking the teacher crossed Kakashi's mind but he waved it off. He wanted to hold Iruka, to make up for the fight they'd had but it was still too fresh. He didn't want to start that conversation again, especially as it had taken him so long to erase it. What he wanted was a hot shower to pound at his aching limbs then some much-needed sleep and, by the looks of it, so did Iruka. Taking care to tread quietly, he turned the television off, locked the windows and doors and picked up a gruff Pakkun, taking him with him as he ascended the stairs.

**…**

Iruka fidgeted awake, still reluctant to open his eyes. He stilled, wanting to hear if his bedmate was making any sounds, but heard nothing. Eyes still closed, his hands wandered in search of Kakashi's. If it was still he probably had another hour of sleep, if it was shaking or taut and fisted, it'd be time to get up. His searching hand found nothing but a drop though, his fingers feeling nothing but carpet. Rubbing his eyes of the sleep and confusion he took in his shirt and trousers and the sofa he was sleeping on, yesterday's fight coming back to him.

Bolting upright he scrambled to his feet, his neck protesting at the sudden movement after having slept at an awkward angle. Feeling around for the light switch, he passed his gaze immediately to the hands of the clock he could now see. 3:40. He could feel a cold sweat coming on as he calculated that Kakashi had left the house almost nine hours ago. He'd surely have been on the verge of a panic attack if he hadn't spotted the older man's running shoes back on the rack.

He was a little too relieved at the fact that Kakashi was home, a little too relaxed now he knew where he was. He didn't prepare himself for what he'd got so accustomed to seeing at three in the morning and so it hit him harder than usual. There in the centre of their bed lay Kakashi, curled into foetal, releasing little whimpery breaths that could have just been mistaken for the mumblings of sleep. But Iruka knew better, had heard those whimpers and that uneven breathing, had seen the shaking that accompanied it, the grimace that came along with it. But now, seeing it from a distance, seeing it when Kakashi wasn't an inch beside him, when he couldn't just wake him up straight away, it hit him much harder than usual.

Everything that had happened the evening before flew back to Iruka's mind and he wanted nothing more than to hold and hit Kakashi; hold him until everything was okay again, until he wasn't hurting anymore, hit him for being so stubborn, for not seeing that this had to stop. This had to stop today.

Walking closer to the bed, Iruka perched on the edge of the bed beside Kakashi's curled form. His own hand was trembling as he reached out to the soldier's shoulder. Iruka wasn't tired, he wasn't blinking away sleep like he usually was when he was waking Kakashi and even though it was the same, even though it was still his Kakashi trembling with clenched fists and wet eyelashes, it really wasn't the same looking at it like this. It always hurt, always made him want to cry to see the one he loved in pain, but right now the pain seared. It crawled up his throat, blocking his speech and his air as he choked out the older man's name. He knew he had to pull himself together though, knew he had to be the strong one in that moment.

Blinking back his tears and taking a deep calming breath he carried on, calling Kakashi louder as he shook him awake. He watched as the man blinked out of his sleep, his fists easing out of the sheets as he slowly unfurled his form, the sheets pooling at his waist as he sat up. Iruka stayed where was, facing Kakashi from where he was sat a little distance away but, now he was awake, the brunette kept his hands to himself, his fingers twisting in his lap with the desire to soothe, but well restrained as he waited for Kakashi to focus his eyes on him.

Iruka wasn't going to rub his back and kiss his temple. He wasn't going to let Kakashi bury his face in his chest and hold him until he'd gone back to sleep because that was part of the problem. No matter how much he itched to do so, they weren't going to silently acknowledge these nightmares, they weren't going to ease them away only for them to return the next night so the cycle would repeat, so Iruka kept his hands to himself, staring into glazed over ruby and onyx.

"Kakashi?" He received no reply, uncharacteristically wide eyes looking somewhere past his shoulder. "Kakashi, talk to me."

Nothing. Not a response, not a sigh, not a shake of his head or an indication that Kakashi had even heard him. The only sound in the room was the soft ruffling of the sheets as Kakashi's palms rubbed up and down in a slow, automatic, almost unconscious movement. Looking away from his hands, Iruka returned his own gaze to Kakashi's. His blinks were slow and languid, his eyelids heavy and this had to have been the longest time he'd seen both of Kakashi's eyes open. Without the soothing, the soft words and softer touches Iruka usually provided, Kakashi must still have been there, awake now but mentally still wherever he'd been while asleep.

"Kakashi?" Iruka moved a little closer, his head tilting a little so his eyes could fall into the empty space that the older man was staring into. It took a few tries, but he eventually watched as dilated pupils met his own. "Kakashi? Kakashi talk to me. Tell me what you're seeing."

It wasn't what he was hoping for but Iruka was relieved to at least see his question acknowledged, even if it was only through the small shake of a silver head.

"Kakashi please, please talk to me. What did you dream about? What did you see?"

His voice was hoarse and so distant but Iruka's shoulders sank in relief as Kakashi began to speak. "I-I can't. I can't...didn't, I didn't, if I had they would, but the mission...no, no, I can't, I'm sorry, I can't, I'm sorry, so so so-"

"Kakashi it's okay, you can talk to me, please talk to me." He'd had to stop Kakashi rambling, get him back on a coherent course of thought and conversation if he'd ever understand anything. "I just want to help Kakashi, please let me help you. What about the mission?"

"I...I-I didn't but I-I should...if I had, if I'd just, if I had they'd-" Kakashi seemed to choke on a sob, his eyes narrowing, biting his lips to prevent any more leaking and Iruka's heart broke. He watched a tear rolled down Kakashi's pale cheek and his hand raised to wipe it away like a reflex.

As Iruka's warm skin made contact with Kakashi, the man seemed to jolt awake, out of his nightmares and back into reality instead of sat on the fuzzy fence in between. He scooted away from Iruka, his eyes wide, blinking quickly now as he reached the headboard. The brunette watched as his chest rose and fell in quick succession, lost for what to say and what to do.

He didn't have to think for long though as it was Kakashi who made the first move, throwing the sheets of his legs, and moving to get off the bed. Only by virtue that Iruka had already had one foot on the floor and he wasn't still dazed from a bad dream, was he able to reach the door quicker than Kakashi, blocking the taller man from leaving the room.

"Kakashi what's going on up there? Talk to me, let me-"

"N-no, no. No, I need to go, I need to, I need to-"

"You need to talk to me Kakashi, you need to let me help you. Talk to me."

"No, I need to go. If I could just, if I can run, I can...it'll be fine, just, just let me go for a run."

Kakashi was sounding out of breath, his eyes still dilated, blinking rapidly as he tried to get to the doorknob. Iruka was almost scared with worry, there was no way he would let Kakashi out in this state. "Kakashi...'Kashi listen."

"I need to go, I just...please let me go."

"I can't do that Kakashi."

Kakashi's brows were furrowing in frustration now, he almost vibrating with it. "You don't understand Iruka, I need to go! I just...I need to forget!" The broken voice from before was replaced with a bellow, the E's in the need stretched to emphasise how great that need was, but Iruka wasn't backing down.

"Kakashi, I can't let you leave like this. If you want we can just go back to sle-"

"No! I have to, I have to run. It's the only way, I have to."

"'Kashi, please, let's just-"

"No!" Kakashi's shout did nothing to mask the loud crack beside Iruka's ear.

There was nothing but silence, almost as though the two of them were stuck in a tableaux, frozen in this unfathomable situation neither of them had seen coming. Iruka was the first to come to his senses, moving nothing but his neck very slowly as he turned to see Kakashi's fist, surrounded by the white splintery cracks it had collided into.

Iruka turned back to Kakashi as slowly as he had turned to the fist in the door beside him. The man was staring at own hand as though he didn't recognise it, visibly shaking, his eyes wider than Iruka had ever seen them. He watched as the trembling man pulled his hand away from the door, the cracks sounding from the door making Iruka wince at how painful that must be. Tears fell from Kakashi's eyes, his head shaking as he looked between the hole in the door and Iruka's wide eyes ten or so inches away.

"S-so...so-sorry. Sorry, I-I didn't...I wouldn't Iruka, I don't…" The soldier backed away from Iruka, still trembling with sobs that he couldn't contain as he continued to mutter broken apologies, his shoulders shaking and breathing laboured.

Iruka blinked out of his revery as he noticed the distance that was growing between them. It wasn't even a conscious movement on his part as he approached Kakashi, removing the gap between them and folding his arms around the soldier and pulling him as close as he could.

He felt the wetness on his collar bones even through the work shirt he was still wearing. Despite his strong hold Kakashi was still shaking, trembling in his hold as he failed to control his sobs. Iruka held on, held on as tight as he could, his eyes scrunched shut even though it did nothing to keep in his own tears.

Iruka was scared. Not of Kakashi, not even of how close the whole situation had been to disastrous. He was scared that he'd pushed it too far, that his determination and stubbornness that was so often a virtue may have broken Kakashi for good, that for all his concern, his attempts to patch up the cracks in Kakashi's subconscious, he’d managed to shatter it completely.

His own hands shook as he took a hold of Kakashi's wrist, pulling the man back towards the bed so he could try to soothe the man like he usually did – like he should have done. They both held on tighter than before that night, needing to feel the other's others warmth, hear the other's breathing, needing to know the other was still there, still okay.

**…**

Iruka's arm sluggishly reached out of the sheets to turn the alarm clock off. He was tired, more tired than he'd ever been on a morning and he refused to open his eyes, reluctant to begin the day.

He turned to rise from the bed, but before he even stood he realised something was amiss. There had been no resistance as he'd rolled over, no arm across his waist or over his shoulder, no leg tangled between his own or head rested on his chest. His once sleep-heavy eyes flew open, taking in his surroundings, the empty bed seeming so wide without Kakashi in it.

Iruka stared at the empty space, fear freezing him in place.

 

 


	28. Chapter 28

Iruka stood in front of his living room window, eyes staring at the morning scene before him, but unseeing of the postman outside, the neighbours making movements towards their places of employment or the children being readied for school. He saw none of it as he continued to stare, thumbnail being ruined between his teeth; a generic nervous habit that wasn't even his own, but was oddly soothing at that moment. He'd already done his steady breathing and counted backwards from twenty, eight times, to stave off the panic attack that had been so close to taking him over only moments ago. At first, he'd been surprisingly docile, moving in a shocked stupor, as he checked every room of the house, every inch of the garden and turned his head either side of the street. It was only as he'd returned inside, only as the weight of Kakashi's absence hit him, that he'd started to panic.

Now though, heart rate more towards steady than erratic, he was still, unmoving as he stared out the window, numb with worry. As he'd search for Kakashi, he'd also searched for a note, a piece of a paper with a few scrawls or a hastily composed text that would ease his mind, but found none. At least he knew Kakashi had his phone on him though. That was better than nothing. The man had taken his house keys and his phone. His running shoes were missing, as were the tracksuit bottoms that had been draped over the chair in the bedroom. He'd gone for a run. That had to be it. He'd gone for the run that Iruka had denied him the night before and therefore there was no need to worry. Even while thinking this, Iruka's teeth didn't let up on the nail in its grasp.

Shouldn't soldiers know better than to go AWOL or MIA or whichever this was? Then again, if there was an acronym for it, maybe it was just that common among military men, maybe Iruka would just have to get used to this, maybe-

Iruka was pulled out of his internal ramblings at the sudden and surprising wet swipe of a tongue against his bare ankle. He'd have jumped out of his skin, leaving only his bones to bear witness to the annoyed-looking Pakkun standing by his feet on any other day, but the numbness still coursing through him only allowed a raised eyebrow at the dog. What a Kakashi-like response; so cool and composed even when he should have been scared out of his skin. Maybe Kakashi was that numb all the time, making that detached composure was his go-to emotion, maybe his nightmares or his memories of the army gave him the same worry or at least the same inner turmoil that made all other things seem tame in comparison, maybe-

Pakkun yipped at the brunette, looking even more annoyed at the lack of movement when all he really wanted was to be taken outside. Realising this, Iruka walked the dog to the back door, letting him out to roam as he pleased, only noticing that he must be running behind schedule for Pakkun to request to be taken out. Indeed he was running fourty-five minutes late and for a moment he was determined to stay home – to stay home, by the window, biting his nails and waiting for Kakashi to return but, as much as the idea appealed to him, he knew he couldn't. He knew which teachers weren't in the day before that would likely not be in today, he knew he had a stack of marking his students were expecting and a meeting in the afternoon. He also knew however, that his first period on a Thursday was free so, with lethargy and preamble, his mind not at all close to the knowledge he was soon meant to be bestowing to the young, he proceeded to get ready for school.

He wouldn't even try to lie and say Kakashi wasn't all that was on his mind, as he stripped, as he showered, as he dressed, as he made the bed, as he fed Pakkun and got the coffee machine going, his thoughts were focused only on him and the night before. The disaster that was the night before. He tried not to stare at the gaping hole in door and tried not to notice how red his eyes were. If he thought about it now, gave it too much attention now before school, he would never leave the house.

No, he wouldn't think about it. Kakashi had gone on a run. He probably hadn't been able to sleep or woke up and needed to clear his head. Yeah. He knew how long Kakashi could run for as well, so knew he probably wouldn't be back for another couple hours, but it would be fine, he'd see Kakashi at lunch. In three months they hadn't missed a single lunch date and despite this mess he could at least count on seeing his partner then.

Iruka stood at the threshold of his home, running these thoughts through his head and, as much as he saw the truth in them, the worry in his bones couldn't be persuaded out. Still, if he actually didn't leave now he'd be late for second period. Locking the door with a shaky hand, he made his way to the car, throwing his satchel in the passenger seat, but making no movements to start the car. The car keys were in his lap, his hand occupied by the phone he was staring at. Before he could change his mind, he pulled up his contacts, heading to the K's.

Kakashi had to have gone for a run, but just to ease his mind, he'd call. He had to move on to a different nail to assault as it continued to ring until the automated lady was talking him through the voicemail rules. No, Kakashi was running, obviously he wouldn't answer his phone.

_"H-hey Kashi. I just thought I'd, uh, call, I'm, I'm on my way to school now but um, obviously you weren't here when I got up. I just, uh, you must have gone for a run, right? That-that's fine! You needed to go for a run, I get it, I was just...I was just a little worried is all. It-it's fine, I'll see you at lunch?"_

Iruka hung up, promptly throwing his phone to join his satchel on the other seat and dropping his head on the steering wheel. How awkward had that been?! In all honesty he wasn't sure why he'd called or what he'd wanted to say, but it was done now. He hadn't meant to make the end sound like a question, he knew Kakashi would be a lunch but the upward inflection that had creeped into his tone made it so. It was fine he guessed, this way he'd at least get an answer.

**…**

_"Hey Kakashi, I just realised I didn't make anything for lunch and we didn't make dinner either last night so there won't be any leftovers. Do you want me to get you something from the cafeteria or will you pick something up? Let me know okay, you know long the cafeteria line gets."_

**.**

_"Hey. So I go the menu for today, I realised you probably wouldn't know whether you wanted lunch here or not unless you knew what was on today. They've got rice and the soup of the day as usual, but the specials are yakitori and shrimp tempura. Not sure how you feel about those, but I could go for tempura. If you do pick something up though, I have been wanting to try out the old lady's pastrami panini. Umm, yeah...let me know?"_

 

**.**

_"H-Hey, just, wondering where you are. I just went ahead and got the tempura for you too so, uh, get here already, it-it's getting cold."_

**.**

_"...'Kashi?"_

**.**

_"Umm so, I'm guessing you're still running or something so...I'll just...I'll see you at home. I...Kakashi, where are- ...sorry, my class is here, I'll talk to you later. At home?"_

**…**

Iruka was pretty sure he had never gotten out of school so fast, leaving the class before his students, even those sat by the door. It had been evident to them and all his other classes that his thoughts had been elsewhere, their teacher's hazel eyes darting to the phone which constantly remained blank with no zero notifications, no missed calls or unread texts. Some of the braver students were tempted to speak up at the injustice of also not being allowed to have their phones out, but one look at the distressed lines on their sensei's tanned forehead had them falling silent.

Even though he'd gotten out in record time, he stayed in his car, ironically noting the sense of deja vu. It wasn't the same kind of worry though. The day before he'd been anxious about what to say, worried he'd say the wrong thing and desperately hoping it would go well. He'd had the power to shape how it would go, the worry only stemming from a fear that he would steer things in the wrong direction. Today though, that fear had already been realised, he'd already tried to shape things and the result was a disfigured mess. There was no worry about what to say or do because all had been said and done. Today, he was anxious about the consequences of the previous day, worried there'd be no way to return to the bliss that yesterday ruined and still desperately hoping Kakashi was even home.

Shaky hands unlocked the door and entered with trepidation, as though breaking and entering into his own home. He was stood in the entryway, the loud beat of his heart only loud enough to drown out the sound of a drill for the first few moments. He followed the sound, as though in a trance, to the top of the stairs, to see Kakashi crouched at the bottom of his bedroom door, his attention focused on the lower hinge he was currently drilling to the door frame. Moments passed before the drill quieted, the house suddenly dropped into silence.

Iruka had only exhaled before Kakashi had stood and spun around in surprise, drill wielded, before the realisation hit that it was only Iruka who had crept up behind him and caught him off guard. The drill was placed back on the carpet before Kakashi stood back up, but somehow he didn't seem to stretch to his usual statuesque height. He seemed smaller, sheepish as he avoided Iruka's gaze, uncomfortable as he scuffed his toes against the carpet, switching his weight between both feet. Iruka hadn't been sure what to expect when he'd come into the house, but this wasn't it and he found himself rooted to the spot in silence, unsure of what to do or say. Thankfully though, Kakashi thought it better to say anything than nothing at all.

"Hi."

"Hey."

Kakashi again switched his weight to his other sock-clad foot, the nerves seeping into his voice as he spoke for longer. "I, uh, I wasn't expecting you to be back so early."

"I..I wasn't expecting you back at all." He hadn't meant to say that, it had been a thought that had just blurted itself it out, but it was true. He'd been so scared that Kakashi wouldn't be back from wherever he had been all day, certain he would arrive to an empty home and be forced again to stand at his living room window looking out for the older man as he sent another deluge of voicemails his way. He was glad that wasn't the case, so, so glad.

Iruka was pulled out of his musings as Kakashi walked by him on the stairs. His brows furrowed in confusion as he turned to watch the silver-haired man descend to the entryway. He was again struck dumb, not a clue what to do as he had not a clue what Kakashi was doing. When he saw the man reach out for a pair of shoes on the rack though, he was shocked into action, climbing a few steps down.

"Wh-what are you...Kakashi, where are you going?" He couldn't leave. There was so much to talk about, so much they needed to sort out. If the man needed to go for a run though, Iruka wasn't sure he could deny him, not after he'd seen what denying the man could do, but that's exactly why they had to talk and sort this whole mess out.

Kakashi stood, only turning halfway around to answer Iruka before going back to adjusting his shoes. "My apartment."

Iruka felt himself freeze as those two words settled around him. His apartment, Kakashi was going to his apartment. That, that wasn't right. That wasn't right at all. He may not have been sure what would happen when he got back from school, but this wasn't even in the realm of possibility. He had expected one of two paths, the one he proposed and the one he assumed Kakashi would propose, either talking through what happened last night and how they would get past it, or writing it off as a bad day and carrying on as they normally would. Kakashi going back to his apartment was a path all on its own and the implications of it made Iruka's gut churn with a sudden fear that he could potentially be losing something precious.

His body moved of its own accord, slotting itself between Kakashi and the door just as the other man had laced up his second shoe.

"What? Y-you can't...you can't just-" Something seemed to pass through the soldier's eye before he turned around, Iruka's heart settling slightly, only to kick back into panic mode when the soldier reached out for his apartment and car keys from one of the hooks on the wall. "Kakashi!"

"Don't worry, I've enough there to last me for the night and I can come by to pick up the rest of my stuff while you're at school tomorrow."

Iruka's breath caught in his throat making a choked sound as his back hit the door. He had to have missed something somewhere. Kakashi wasn't...Kakashi wouldn't…

"Wh-what? Why, why would you want to move back? Do you...do you not want to live with me anymore?" Iruka was discreetly trying to do his breathing exercises so he wouldn't pass out slumped against his door.

"I...of course I do. You’re the one who wants me to move out!"

"No I don't!"

**…**

Kakashi was just about done with the rollercoaster of emotions that was this day. For someone who'd been so used to feeling nothing, he was feeling too many things all at once and all too raw for his liking. As it was he'd just had his heart sink with an undeniable sense of despair at the thought that Iruka wanted him to leave their home, only to be picked right back up, albeit confusedly, at the revelation that the brunette apparently wanted no such thing. And that was only in the last five minutes. The entire day had been much worse.

He could try to use words to explain everything he had been feeling in the early hours of the morning when his normal awakening from a nightmare turned into a nightmare itself, but he wasn't even sure there were adjectives to describe the tempest that had waged its way through his emotions then. He just remembered feeling so tense, pulled so tightly it felt like he would snap at any moment, so at the end of his tether.

He'd been scared at how close he'd been to spilling his guts about everything that had happened on his last tour. He'd been absolutely terrified at how much he actually wanted to spill his guts, how desperate he'd been, even for a moment, to give into Iruka's soothing voice and reassuring requests to open up, how much he'd been ready to finally let go of the burden he'd been carrying for too long. But it had only been for a moment. A moment too long and too close for his liking though, and it left him feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. He'd let his guard down and forgotten all the things he'd decided, all the reasons he had for why he shouldn't tell Iruka about Obito and Rin.

All he could think at that point was that he needed to leave, he needed to get away for a moment so he could rebuild whatever internal wall had started to crumble and almost let everything seep out. It was only Iruka, he knew it was only Iruka and if he had to pick anyone to see him in a vulnerable state it would be the younger man, but he didn't want to be seen when vulnerable full stop and that's why he'd had to leave. But Iruka had been there, all calming aura, warming hands and warming words, ever the rock trying to ground Kakashi, pull him back from whatever was haunting him like he'd done every night for what seemed like forever. But that only made it worse, piling guilt onto the already rising tide of emotions that was threatening to pull him into its abyss. Iruka was there for him, unwaveringly, asking for nothing in return and Kakashi couldn't even pay him back with the truth, a truth he knew Iruka only wanted for Kakashi's own sake and he really needed to leave.

He'd needed to leave, to go somewhere he could breath because he felt as though he couldn't in that room. It certainly wasn't helping that the image of his comrades blood on his hands was still very much at the forefront of his mind, he could practically feel the warm sticky redness oozing between his fingers as they had in his nightmare, as he'd failed to stop the bleeding, their blood on his hands both physically and metaphorically and he really needed to leave. He needed to run, he needed to shake off all this excess emotion that was weighing him down, dragging him down, but Iruka, ever the rock, was standing strong, trying to anchor him when all he wanted to do was flee. They were caught in this impossible push and pull and something was bound to snap.

Somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind he knew he was being unreasonable, that his reactions were off from the norm and he wasn't in the right state of mind. He knew Iruka was trying to do what was best for him, but only in the very very dark recesses of his mind. The only thing he began to feel was frustration at being denied his exit and the perceived peace he intended to find on the other side of the bedroom door. Didn't Iruka understand that he had to leave?

The desperation and vulnerability, the guilt and the frustration and everything that had been piling up just finally fizzed over to the point where he couldn't handle it, couldn't contain it all inside him. He prided himself in being a fine-tuned machine, controlled and composed, disciplined in a way only a soldier of his calibre could be, so the momentary loss of control that occurred had been absolutely frightening. He was sure his heart had stopped for a minute when he came to and found his fist lodged in the door, it had to have done, it was the only way to explain the aching burn in his chest, the feel of his blood freezing in his veins and all thought halting in its tracks.

Fear and shame and anger at himself all piled onto everything he was already feeling, surpassing the limit of emotion he could handle by a mile. He could remember shaking with the intensity of it all, his eyes tearing and his heart pounding with it and, he just couldn't. He couldn't handle any of it, he couldn't hold himself together and he couldn't, he just couldn't.

And then Iruka's arms had been around him, holding together all the pieces Kakashi was sure would just fall apart without him there and it was everything Kakashi needed in that moment. There was a strength and reassurance in the tightness of Iruka's arms around his shoulders, a safety in the crook of his neck that brought a standstill to the rollercoaster his feelings had been on. Iruka had held on so tight in the following hour, so tight and so sure and Kakashi had felt as though he'd never let go, like, Iruka would always carry on holding him regardless of what he did, like Iruka would carry on holding him even if he found out what a monster Kakashi was.

As another hour ticked by and slumber began to possess the younger man, his tight grip began to slacken till he was barely holding on, his arms barely staying around Kakashi and this was not what Kakashi had needed. He tried to increase his own hold to make up for it, to get back to that feeling of being encompassed completely by care and affection, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same and Kakashi needed to go for a run.

He found himself in the park hours and hours later, his mind feeling clearer and cleaner than it had for what felt like a lifetime. Every muscle ached and burned and the sun was high up in the sky, a stark difference from the dewy sunrise he had left the house to. His stinging lungs, empty head and sore limbs made their way slowly back to his home, relishing in the hot spray of the shower and the stillness that settled around him.

It should have been fine, it would have been, like it always was after his daily run had given him peace of mind, but then he had to see it, the splintery gaping hole in the door that brought back everything from the night before with the subtlety of a 90mph collision. All the fear and frustration and pain and hurt that he'd done so well to forget, that he'd nearly given himself ripped tendons and an asthma attack for, came rushing back to him, but the fear particularly was much more acute than it had been the night before.

He was scared to his very bones, to his very bone marrow, as he looked at the undeniable evidence of the monster he was. The thought that he could have hurt Iruka, that, give or take ten inches, that second of lost control could have ended the night in disaster, terrified him. What kind of man aimed a punch at his only love? None. No man would. Only a monster. Only scum.

The thought plagued Kakashi to the point of pulling on his strands of silver hair and, though he loathed to admit, his fists were clenching and unclenching, numbers being counted in descending order because he was that on edge. What had he done? What had he almost done?

For all his determination to keep Iruka from knowing about what had happened on the Kanabi bridge mission, for all his desire to keep the darkness of his past life away from the light that was his life with Iruka now, in a split second of confusion and emotional overload, he'd proved himself, with damning evidence, to be the very monster he'd tried to keep Iruka from knowing he was.

The breathing exercises were doing nothing to quell the panic that was rising. The panic that Iruka would leave him, would realise what he was, would realise he could do better, realise he deserved better than an abusive drunkard with a murderous past. Within himself he knew that wasn't exactly the case, knew he wasn't that bad and could remember how Iruka had held him last night and told him everything would be okay, but the panic that still continued to rise blocked out any form of rational thought. He could barely move, let alone think straight in the face of that fist-sized hole in the door, a constant reminder of last night and the looming breakup he was sure would occur. He had to get rid of it.

As he drove around the city scoping all the hardware stores in search of an identical white door, he knew he was only looking for a distraction, but it really was the perfect one; it gave him something else for his mind to latch onto and soothed his conscience a little knowing Iruka wouldn't come back to the hole that had haunted his afternoon.

Before he'd left the house though, keys and wallet in toe, he'd taken his phone as was the protocol, only to see Iruka's name and multiple voicemails. The phone was promptly stuffed in his bedside drawer before he left in search of a door. He had a mission in mind and it was something he could achieve, talking to Iruka now filled him with unnerving amounts of trepidation he wasn't then ready to deal with.

The relief of finding a door, getting rid of the broken one and drilling in the last nail into the hinges, was swiftly wiped away and replaced with worry and anxiety at the sight of Iruka behind him. He was unprepared, his apology unrehearsed and he just said the first thing that came to his mind. You can't imagine the plummet of his heart, the twist in his gut when Iruka said he hadn't been expecting him back. He was sure the only reason he hadn't buckled under the weight of the hurt, was because he'd been expecting it and knew he deserved nothing less. But then Iruka was standing between him and the door, looking distressed and confused and telling him he didn't have to leave and the wave of relief wrapped in confusion nearly knocked him over.

"B-but you said...you said you weren't expecting me here. I thought you meant-"

"I wasn't! You disappeared in the middle of the night Kakashi. You..you missed our lunch for the first time and you didn't return any of my calls. I was hoping you'd be back, but I didn't expect you to be."

There was so much there he could unpack, could explain, should explain, but he didn't want to bring up the door he'd spent the afternoon looking for and assembling and he definitely didn't want to explain that he'd been too afraid to answer the man's calls. Instead he just wanted to make sure, just wanted to settle the worries whispering that he could still lose everything.

"S-so you don't...you don't want me to leave?!”

"No." Iruka's palms came and cradled his cheeks, such a certainty in his voice and stubborn faith in his eyes, Kakashi couldn't take it.

He dropped his gaze still filled with the shame and guilt of what he had done. He didn't deserve this, didn't deserve Iruka's forgiveness but those hazel eyes were so sure and accepting, so caring and he didn't deserve it.

"H-hey, 'Kashi, w-what's wrong?" A hand moved from his cheek to tilt his chin upwards and only at the blurry vision of a tan face did Kakashi realise the emotions had finally got the better of him. His shaking fingers fisted into the shirt at Iruka's sides, but he couldn't form words yet, could only stand there trembling as Iruka's fingered away the tears that were pooling at his lashes.

So much for not appearing vulnerable, but really though, he couldn't care at this point. He wasn't sure whether he was in a state of elation or despair because he felt so lucky, so overjoyed that Iruka was still there, that, after all that had happened, he was still here holding him, forgiving him, taking him as the monster he was, but the guilt was just so crippling. He was happy to be forgiven, to be given another chance, but he knew he shouldn't even have gotten into a situation where he needed to be forgiven. Iruka didn't deserve that and it hurt that he couldn't give him the kind of relationship he was entitled to.

It had been one of the only requests Iruka had made of Kakashi; to give him the truth, to open up to him and the only thing Kakashi had been able to give him in return had been an almost-trip to the hospital.

Somewhere Kakashi was aware of his heavy-falling tears, the sobs that had started to escape his lips and the continued tremble in his hands, somewhere he was aware that he was slowly breaking down in the hallway of their home and Iruka, bewildered and concerned was wiping his tears and holding him close, but his internal-dialogue had gone off on a tangent.

If Iruka was still here, still here holding and consoling him, still here wanting to live with him and carry on their relationship after seeing Kakashi at his worst, after seeing Kakashi as an emotional out-of-control tornado and almost being assaulted by said tornado, if he was still here, then maybe he would always be here. Maybe Kakashi could finally let go of the burden he'd been carrying, maybe he could tell Iruka of his nightmares, of his mission and his mistakes and maybe, like now, Iruka would hold him and be his anchor, would reserve judgement and still care for him regardless.

Maybe.

Iruka had not a clue what to do or what to say but he continued to hold Kakashi as the taller men wept into his shoulder. One hand smoothing circles between his shoulder blades, the other combing through silver locks, Iruka held him like he had the night before. Apologies were pouring from Kakashi's lips but Iruka was sure they were involuntary, simply falling out of the mouth he had lost control of in the same way the moisture was leaking from his eyes, but Iruka held him all the same, whispering his own words of forgiveness until eventually the older man quieted.

He still didn't let go though and neither did Iruka, both finding solace in each other arms, the emotional turmoil of the day finally winding down to a simmer now they were together and were confident in their relationship's continued existence. It felt like one of those defining junctures that every relationship faced at some point, as though the stress of the recent ordeal and the fact they had made it out still enclosed in each other's embrace was a solidifying moment.

If they could make it through this, they could make it through anything and Kakashi had the overwhelming urge to pepper kisses all over the neck he'd only just been shedding tears on, so he did, his lips pressing wherever they could, on the scant skin available and all over the shirt resting on his shoulder and collarbones.

"Kakashi?" Iruka sighed and the older man could hear the question that wasn't asked and the caution that wasn't given. They still had to talk, still had to comb through what had happened, dammit Kakashi had only just dried his eyes, had only just a moment ago been able to stop the tremble in his frame, but he needed this. He needed Iruka and a simple embrace, no matter how tight, wasn't going to cut it. He needed Iruka.

He continued to drop kisses wherever he could reach, stopping only when Iruka took a strand of his hair, pulling it back until their eyes could meet, and how those eyes could speak. He could read the worry in them, the worry Iruka must have been carrying all day not knowing if Kakashi was okay, not knowing if their relationship was going to be okay after the night's events. He could read their concern, their apprehension, still shaken from witnessing Kakashi's breakdown. But Kakashi could also see his own need reflected in those hazel orbs, the need for affirmation, the need for tangible, physical proof that they would be okay, that they would continue to be one and...yeah, this was one of those defining moments.

They met halfway, their kiss tentative in a way it hadn't been since their first few encounters, but there was nothing tentative about the sure strokes Iruka drove right to Kakashi's hilt, nothing unsure about the steady strength behind each push and pull that had Kakashi's eyes rolling to the back of his head. Each sweep drove past his prostate with such certainty it was like Iruka had been given a map of his insides beforehand and it was all Kakashi could do to hold on. He wasn't in charge, but he didn't feel weak. He wasn't in control, but he didn't feel vulnerable and the realisation had him gasping, or moaning, but that could have been the increased pace and the surer grip at his hips.

Kakashi wasn't sure if it was the last three borderline-aggressive stabs at his prostate that finally pushed him over the edge or the repeated declarations Iruka mumbled in his ear when he reached his own completion, but he came back to his senses many moments later, staring at the ceiling, an equally-panting Iruka beside him. He turned his neck to the sweaty, sated sight that was Iruka and knew he mirrored his look of utter contentment. Remembering the last thing he'd heard, he smirked, elbowing Iruka softly to get his attention.

"Hmm, love you too."

Chocolate eyes widened to comedic proportions but it was the quick spread of a blush across tan cheeks, to the tips of his ears and down to his neck that had Kakashi letting out a few chuckles. The younger gaped, appearing as though he was trying and failing to find the words till Kakashi decided to cut in, if only to tease him further.

"Maa, if I'd known it would have you declaring your love for me, I'd have handed my ass over long before now."

"I-I...It's not, that's not...I didn't, I don't-"

"You don't love me?" This was just too amusing and Kakashi felt warm and happy and content and right. So, so right.

"No! I do, I do, I...I-I just, I don't remember, I don't-" It was then Iruka finally took notice of Kakashi's laughter and amusement at his expense, thus began his half-hearted attempt to smother Kakashi with his pillow. They tumbled on the bed, their laughter and the rustle of sheets the only sound in the room, stopping only when Iruka was finally pinned by Kakashi's lean body above him. Tan palms cradled pale cheeks and the adoration in Iruka's eyes said it all but his words confirmed it. "I love you, 'Kashi."

"I love you too, 'Ruka."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the penultimate chapter guys!


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